


Chasing after understanding

by hazk



Series: chase [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Role Reversal, Season/Series 01, Slow Burn, Themes related to:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazk/pseuds/hazk
Summary: When Victor was nine, he was told to quit skating. He did. At nineteen, he wanted to believe he was on the ice to stay.When Yuuri was twenty-three, he won gold at the Grand Prix Finals. He didn’t want it. At the same age, he moved on to coach someone who did.





	1. Window into forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was beauty in skating, beauty in the performances a skater could bring to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Sketchy! (…how you got me to write something this long, I'll never know?)

When Victor was nine years old, he was told to quit skating. He did.

His grandmother had been paying for the lessons for the short year he had skated until then, and she had cheered him on even as his parents couldn’t have cared less about his new hobby.

In his mind, skating equalled beauty – music and dance coming together to free Victor to be whoever he wanted to be. Skating was an act performed with grace.

While his grandmother had agreed, his parents never did. Indirectly, they insulted his interests, Victor too blinded by their empty smiles to let even his grandmother know. And when she died, his parents were more than happy to pull him from his classes and drop the last shreds of their own acts in doing so.

Still, Victor didn’t complain in front of his parents, or anyone else. Not about any of it.

It took less than a year for the situation to change and for Victor to be taken from his parents’ life instead.

It took almost another year on top of that for him to even begin to understand why.

 

* * *

 

Victor had never competed, had never even considered the possibility before turning eleven and having his new coach appear in his life. This coach was now speaking with his mother – new mother, _real mother_ – about the possibility, and Victor listened on curiously.

There was beauty in skating, beauty in the performances a skater could bring to life.

It baffled him how he had never even imagined himself competing for real, fleshing out routines just for him to present and surprise the audiences with. He wanted to be beautiful, he wanted to be seen.

He had never been allowed that dream, Victor supposed with a tilt of his head as he listened to the conversation taking place in front of him. His parents – new parents, _loving parents_ – were nothing short of enthusiastic over the idea.

As long as Victor was as well, that is.

They looked at him, his mother and father smiling with their eyes sparkling just like his were. Cheerfully, they asked Victor of his opinion, although they already knew exactly what his answer was going to be.

Victor laughed, free to go forth and see who he would become when following down this road. With that in mind, he eagerly nodded his head.

Skating was about beauty, and that beauty Victor wanted to share with his family.

 

* * *

 

His mother had dreamed of becoming a skater but only briefly when she had been young. Now, the lifetime old love of ice was quickly burning again as she shared the surface with her son.

Victor looked at her, her eyes filled with excitement as she glided rather clumsily after him, her arms wide open as she attempted to chase him down. He almost wanted to stop, wanted to slip and slide to have her pick him up from the cold surface with both worry and soft jokes on her lips.

Skating equalled beauty and love, family and freedom – his grandmother would be so happy for him, Victor was certain.

 

* * *

 

 _They_ said he was talented, as if born for the life on the ice.

 _They_ said he was a natural, leaving others far behind even before getting started.

The loudest voices around cheered him on, and the malicious whispers tried to pull him back. But Victor didn’t hear the whispers, didn’t pay those any mind.

He had a goal in mind, hearing _them_ speak of the things he could achieve and wanting to see it all for himself. There was beauty in skating, beauty he believed he had once seen for himself and now wanted to show to the rest of the world.

Victor wanted to be what _they_ would look at, what all of _them_ would keep talking about.

The whispers grew louder but he didn’t mind.

 

* * *

 

The world didn’t understand, moulding Victor to be what _they_ wanted instead. He didn’t realise this for a long time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting off with Victor! I've basically divided this into four parts, with first chapter for each being a “retrospective” similar to this. Parts one and two are the character prologues, and the style will remain somewhat vague until the end.  
> \--  
> I'm not a fan of how young I had to make both Victor and Yuuri, but that was the only way I could rationalise them going with the idea (…"young and foolish", hah). Only Victor and Chris' ages have been clearly changed.  
> \--  
> Real Life dates/locations are used for the few skating events (pretty much GP only, season 2014-15), only because it ended up fitting nicely with my simplified writing.


	2. Pride to carry on your back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor grew up talented in the field of pretending, seeming to be in full control of his surroundings.

When Victor was fourteen years old, he finally reached the level of skill needed – and high enough scores – to be applicable for skating events such as the Junior Grand Prix. To him, it felt like it had happened a year too late but everyone else saw it as proof of his talent.

After all, he had only been skating seriously for less than three years by then, the latter half of that time in St. Petersburg and under Yakov Feltsman’s guidance. Yakov had seen his talent early on, immediately asking Victor’s parents if they would be okay with transferring him to be a part of his team.

Yakov was known for his skaters reaching the heights of their careers, directing their talent above that of most stepping on the ice. Both Victor and his parents had dreamily thought that having the man see his potential after such a short time was a good indication for a bright future.

His parents had had no reason to decline the offer and asked Victor to make the choice for himself, again knowing exactly what he would say. They agreed with him wholeheartedly as, more than anything else, his parents wanted to see him be happy. Since skating and their approval was all Victor needed to be just that, it was an easy decision to make.

With their lives turned around to match the idea they had of their future, there had been no stopping Victor from reaching for his newfound dream.

 

* * *

 

Through determination, Victor was quick to become a true monster of his sport. He achieved fame with his graceful moves, looks and the precision he performed with from practice to competitions.

His talent belonged to someone twice his age, the press said while Victor laughed. Still, he never denied their words, only offering the already well practiced expressions of gratitude. His goal was to be exactly as good as everyone believed him to be, and then go beyond those expectations with something spectacular.

While Victor adapted to be what his dream asked of him, Yakov was learning to get annoyed by the roles he pulled and the risks he took even from such a young age. It showed his determination, for sure, but none of that was of any use if he didn’t listen to his coach’s warnings in time.

And that’s the thing about Yakov Feltsman; no matter how harsh he might have sounded at times, he cared about his skaters, even those of them who seemed more trouble than they were worth. He always kept an eye on Victor as his skills developed, knowing better than most that his new skater would only become a star if properly guided.

Although Yakov’s annoyance and anger were always met with Victor’s sparkling, prideful eyes, the skater truly wanted to take his chance to prove his talent to his coach as well, more than most.

Yakov accepted the challenge, not letting him go easy.

 

* * *

 

Victor’s growing confidence, apparent on and off the ice, continued to carry him through the interviews and allowed him to build an image of his own making. He did listen to his parents though, as he sometimes did to the publicist Yakov had assigned to him as everything began to change.

Yakov wanted to be sure that the attention of the public was directed only to what truly mattered. No matter how young or old his skaters were, they needed to be treated the same.

While Victor was protected, it was easier for him to look easy-going and free spirited when he forced both himself and everyone around him to believe that was exactly how he felt. The act didn’t constrain him - _he wouldn’t let it_. He was free.

Still, his mother didn’t agree, and his father even less so as he began to see himself in his son. You are still a child, they said. You need to breathe. And it would be wrong to say Victor didn’t try to understand, and it’s not like he ignored any of it either. He took his breaks and tried -  _failed_ \- with focusing on his studies as well.

But more than anything else, Victor had been taught that while necessary, fame could also be dangerous on a career so directed by sponsors and the spotlight. Coverage was necessary, and scandals were a death sentence.

Those things went far to define his approach.

As young as he was, Victor did actually know that he really wasn't free to be anything but a child. He had simply chosen otherwise.

 

* * *

 

Victor grew up talented in the field of pretending, seeming to be in full control of his surroundings. From the start, he had learned to look after himself and focus only on his goals, not listening to those who couldn’t reach his level.

If they couldn’t do so now, they never would.

Instead of spending time on those he was surrounded by, Victor looked up to the skaters he had grown up watching and copying. Daily, he replayed the performances that had inspired his own skating and his competitive career since the day he had first been introduced to the idea.

Victor’s dream was to be seen, and he wanted to give the same courtesy to those who would be skating by his side in the future he was heading toward.

But then, unexpectedly and breaking through all the practice he had already had in self-control, Victor’s daily routines were broken by something that went beyond anything he had ever seen; the sight immediately making him forget about everyone else he might have once admired.

In Victor’s mind, skating equalled beauty – music and dance coming together as an act performed with grace. Never had that sentiment been truer than when he stood witness to the debut of a routine that would change the course of his life for good.

He finally saw the beauty he wanted to _compare to_ \- not overshadow and overtake.

Victor completely forgot he wasn’t actually present for the performance, the distance of continents in between them meaning nothing in that moment. What he saw made its way through the TV screen and got him completely in its hold, showcasing the immense talent of the skater before him.

At the age of fourteen, Victor fell in love with the ice all over again – and it was no longer moulded just in his image.

 

* * *

 

“Victor! Your form is dropping! Whatever you are thinking about – _stop it!_ ”

Victor chuckled, barely able to hear Yakov’s curses and instructions to fix his pose but following them anyway, just without actually letting go of the thoughts running through his head. While his stance might have faltered, it wasn’t for a lack of focus.

Victor finally knew exactly who it was he wanted to face, as soon as he possibly could.

He shifted his course, ever so slightly implementing a move he had seen through the screen, and Yakov noticed immediately. He growled in warning, low under his breath, but not correcting Victor when the smooth spin he pulled complimented the routine perfectly.

Victor wasn’t a genius. He was young and lacked an eye for even his own vision.

His ideals and so-called perfection were still based on nothing but arrogance, in the ability to copy and paste with more care and skill than most of those who had originally inspired the moves. With confidence, Victor made the ice his own.

But in today’s practice, Victor wasn’t just performing for an audience, and certainly not to Yakov.

As he skated, Victor was smiling to himself with a look more honest and suitable of his actual age than any of those he was often seen wearing, on the ice at least. His movements were smooth yet ruthless, breathless, sharp in their turns as his form reflected back from the scratched surface of the ice.

His skating was filled with pure admiration, Victor not copying anyone but reaching out for them instead.

Watching the shift in his young student’s motivations, Yakov couldn’t help but to hide a twitch of a smile behind his palm, not for years knowing to be worried about what he was now seeing.

Yakov would be angry about it later, yet forgiving both Victor and himself once he would bear witness to the two acts completely dropped and shown to the world.

 

* * *

 

Another year passed, making him victorious at the age of fifteen.

There was no longer the need to paint an image of a future champion, Victor having already won his first milestone and shown that his words weren’t lies. Russia no longer saw him as a mere Wish but a Promise, the entire country made aware that he would be giving his everything to make his way all the way to the top.

While Victor was celebrated, Yakov was also being praised for taking him in and lifting him to where he was. Together, they were already aiming for the next level.

Meanwhile, Victor’s parents continued to also smother him with affection that the skater was truly beginning to get addicted to. His skating made them happy, and it was good it made Victor happy as well.

And with his initial dream having finally been put into a form he really could be aiming for, it wasn’t just pride and his parents’ smiles that drove him onward at an even greater speed.

Only soon, Victor would have to learn to be more patient.

 

* * *

 

The practice that day had gone well, the only downside having been Victor’s rink mates being as annoyed as ever by so much of Yakov’s attention having been pointed at him. But Victor barely noticed any of that anymore, continuing to be as cheerful as ever and only angering his rink mates further by doing so.

Ever since the previous year’s Juniors, and landing his biggest achievement in the season by winning gold at the Grand Prix, Victor felt like he was already inching for the top of the world. He didn’t have the time to worry about skaters other than the ones he was actually expecting to compete against.

He walked out of the dressing room with a skip in his steps, waving at the janitor by the entrance as he went to exit the building. The man was always kind with his words, now waving back with a smile that Victor matched just as brightly.

Stepping outside, Victor breathed in. The spring was already turning into summer and he was beyond excited. The season changing took him just that much closer to the next competitions and the goals he had set for them.

Cheerfully, Victor sat down on the stone edge by the road and waited for his father to pick him up. His afternoon practices often ended around half an hour before his father’s shift did, meaning he would be passing by soon enough.

Victor sat patiently on the edge, kicking his legs back and forth as he scrolled through his phone.

Phichit Chulanont had posted yet another photo of himself and Katsuki Yuuri at practice sometime earlier; it looked like they were also having fun with their new routines. Same went with the other skaters Victor was either following or keeping an eye out for, depending on his motivations for the day.

After a while, Victor let his hands drop and put the phone back in his pocket. With practiced ease, he continued to smile without letting the look tighten around the edges, enjoying the weather and the moment of silence he had all for himself.

A few more minutes passed before Yakov exited the building and walked toward him, leaving the rink to do whatever he did on his free time – Victor had never asked what that was.

The coach stopped by his side and Victor grinned up at him. Yakov's expression didn't change.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Waiting.” Victor glanced at the road every time he heard a car about to pass by. "Father’s late.”

Yakov looked at the road himself and briefly calculated his need to stay. He knew Victor didn’t live far off so it would be easy enough for him to walk even if his father didn’t show up soon, meaning Yakov had no need to bother with him further. He nodded curtly and turned to move away, just as Victor’s phone rang.

He pulled the phone out and looked at the caller’s ID. Seeing that it was his mother, Victor happily picked up.

But Victor’s smile faltered almost immediately, his brows furrowing in confusion at what he was hearing. His mother rambled on almost uncontrollably, not making much sense as she gasped for air between every few words. Her voice was strangled, wet.

It took a moment longer for Victor to register just what she was trying to tell him through her tears. The phone fell to the ground with a crack, making Yakov turn back to look questioningly at Victor.

Immediately, Yakov's eyes widened in shock and he hurried back to Victor’s side, taking a hold of his shoulders to keep him upright as he began to crumble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While everything's kept intentionally vague and undescriptive, the next chapter deals with death and depression with themes such as self-harm.  
> \--  
> This fic has a lot of parallels and throwback lines, and they're probably meaningful only in my head. Still, might be useful to keep in mind for those of you interested in sticking around, to catch the reason behind my wording!


	3. Grief to carry in your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor’s career had ended on that day.

Yakov Feltsman looked after his skaters.

Sitting in the suffocating silence of the hospital's hallway and resting his hand on Victor’s shoulder, he wished he knew how to do exactly that now.

His mind was running through scenarios, through words that might or might not hold any meaning to the boy sitting by his side. Yakov was ashamed of how many of his solutions, his opening lines, were designed to regard skating and what Victor should prepare for next.

Victor’s mother sat by them with a blank look across her face, her hand in her son’s.

Yakov wanted to leave but, then again, he would have to say something to do even that much. He felt like he was intruding even if no-one seemed to pay him any mind.

And so Yakov stayed, swallowed by the silence the three of them shared.

 

* * *

 

“T-thank you, for bringing him here – I wasn’t thinking straight, I shouldn’t have called Victor the way I did, told him like I did… _Thank you,_ for being there”, Victor’s mother whispered, with Victor having gone to the bathroom and Yakov still stuck on his own, green plastic seat. He had already texted his other students to let them know that the rest of the day’s practices were cancelled, telling them to do their own workouts instead.

Yakov didn’t know why he was still here, _what he could do –_

“He is my student, I wasn’t going to leave”, Yakov gruffly said, feeling like he hadn’t opened his mouth for days. “I will help you in whatever way I can.”

It was the least he could say and do, hoping to somehow be given clear instructions on how to give them his best.

Victor’s mother looked at him, appearing thankful yet filled with fear. She didn’t know what was going to happen next, of course she didn’t. She had no-one to call, and there was no-one else to look after her and Victor as their world began to shatter around them.

Yakov stayed with her because he wasn’t asked to leave. Later, he stayed with Victor as she had to go see the doctors again.

Victor didn’t ask to go with her.

Yakov didn’t leave.

 

* * *

 

Victor’s father passed away at thirty-six years of age. He had had a heart attack, just before the end of his shift.

The doctors blamed stress.

 

* * *

 

Victor’s mother invited Yakov to her husband’s funeral. There was no way he could have declined, later entering the small room with only a handful of people standing there in a silence even emptier than the one of the hospital had been.

Most of the guest weren’t on speaking terms and Victor’s expression was blank as he stood by his mother’s side.

They looked a lot alike, Yakov found himself thinking then.

 

* * *

 

Yakov Feltsman looked after his skaters.

Sometimes the decisions he made for them could be seen as selfish, with him pushing them to lengths they weren’t all that likely to handle just to have that small chance at success. Yakov was praised only for those of them who actually made it, these chosen skaters and their coach well known around the world.

He knew that none of them had gotten to where they were by him going soft on them.

But just as Yakov knew when to be strict, he also knew when to use his position for the more important matters; and this included the general health of his skaters. Sometimes the decisions he made for them were purely for their own sake, pushing them down and telling them to stay away so that they would still have capability to choose if they wanted to come and try again later.

Now was the time for him to do that to Victor and Yakov knew it would be a challenge to the both of them.

After all, they both craved for success.

 

* * *

 

Victor had been ambitious ever since he had been allowed back on the ice by his new family. His determination had only increased when his coach from then had directed him to become a part of Yakov’s team. Yakov had immediately known that this child would become a star, no matter how difficult working with him had turned out to be at times.

But the state Victor was in now was a threat to all of that.

After his father’s death, Victor had began to practice even harder. He had further cut down on his breaks and the few, unrelated hobbies to push himself beyond the limits that existed to both protect him and to make his growth more prominent.

He was hurting himself, not looking anyone in the eyes as he denied their help and worry. No matter what Yakov said and did to forbid him his routines, Victor continued to find a way to burn himself out.

Victor’s mother had agreed with Yakov completely, having begged her son to take at least a short break and get help while he grieved. It was only natural, he would grow stronger in return. 

Out of any of his many traits, she didn't want Victor to be like his father in this one. Her fear was understandable in that.

The arrangement they offered was simple: Victor was still allowed to skate to keep up his talent but, acting the way he now did, practicing for competitions would only throw him to something Yakov was certain he couldn’t be pulled back from later.

Even with the limitations set, they weren't quite accepted. Victor continued to skate with purpose. He spent his allowed time on the ice creating his own routines by using the only other that mattered as the basis of them. The beauty of the debut he had seen was something he wanted to fully focus on recreating to ignore the pain he was in.

Under Yakov’s unapproving eyes, Victor kept reaching for a hold he couldn’t quite have, at least not the way he was.

They kept telling him that he had to breathe.

“You are sixteen years old, you have already made your mark – it is not a crime to spend an extra year practicing for your debut in the Seniors”, Yakov said for the thousandth time. And just like every other of those times, Victor listened.

He knew full well that Yakov would never say this to any of his pupils if he wasn’t serious about each and every word. After weeks’ worth of anger and avoiding the mere idea of giving in to that realisation, he finally agreed and took the rest of the year off.

Still, a break from all competitions - an entire season off - didn’t mean Victor ever let go of the routine he had built for himself. The few days a week he was now allowed on the ice, he continued to skate to it as the feeling of failure grew too much to otherwise handle.

The routine didn’t feel nearly as beautiful now, the pain always there and stinging.

 

* * *

 

The papers speculated. “Personal reasons” were build out to their worst, and the public wondered if Victor would ever return to the ice as a competitive skater.

 _"He’s only sixteen, you fucking vultures",_  Yakov cursed under his breath at every headline he saw, glaring at every interview of his that had been mangled for the sake of the readership. Meanwhile, Victor simply focused all of his determination to make his belated Senior debut as grand as it could be, shutting down everyone who questioned him.

A little too much uncoordinated effort managed to cause a lot of damage in the end, the very moment Yakov finally let him loose.

 

* * *

 

Yakov sat by her side again but this time they were not surrounded by the clinical white of the hospital or the dark of the funeral hall. Her apartment was colourful and there were flower prints covering the pillows and dog toys thrown across the floor.

Makkachin, Yakov having grown very familiar with Victor’s dog by now, sat by her feet and whined as she held onto the collar and patted her head. The dog wanted to go to her owner, not appreciating the sullen mood taking over the apartment once more.

Victor’s mother told him that her son wouldn’t let Makkachin in his room, and Yakov could see that was causing both her and their pet great concern.

“Thank you for coming…” she repeated after a while, quietly but with a smile. It was as hollow as her son’s had been, Yakov noted.

“Of course, although I wish I didn’t have to”, Yakov replied just as calmly, glancing at the hallway that led to Victor’s room.

“I don’t know what to do. I thought he was – _we were_ – getting better. The next season was so close, and Victor was so excited! I-I… He didn’t need this, doesn’t deserve _any_ of this”, she said and then chuckled, the laugh empty yet simultaneously filled with so much worry and fear.

Yakov had no words to reassure her with, but he still had to try.

“I thought the same. Victor has improved immensely over the year, and the restrictions helped him focus on everything he was still struggling with”, Yakov said and sighed, glancing at the hall again.

He felt like he needed to apologise for allowing everything to go this far, but she wouldn't have appreciated it.

Yakov knew he was expected to go see Victor soon. 

 

* * *

 

Being on the ice had always made Victor feel invulnerable.

On ice, he had forced himself to forget about everything else, fully focused on the presentation and perfecting his fluid movements. Especially after everything that had happened, he had to be perfect to forgive himself for the time he had taken off.

Victor hadn't wanted to disappoint anyone.

His father’s death had left him confused, having lost one of the few people he had had left in his life especially now that skating had taken over such a big part of it. His father’s support had meant him the world.

Disappointing his mother would have been too much –

Victor had began to skate with desperation taking over the love for ice, beauty and grace having suddenly been replaced by brash decisions and the loss of his calm. But he had become good at holding it in, hiding it from everyone, and rarely ever even stumbled in his jumps and step sequences.

The time -  _the season off_  - spent on perfection was not a waste, Yakov had continuously repeated to ensure Victor would agree about the process he had been making. But to Victor, it had all felt a little too empty compared to how it had been before.

Throughout it, Victor had been desperately getting better and better at acting and pretending to be calm and in control. His smiles, once enough time had passed since his father’s death for those around to accept that they were back, had been as strong and stunning as ever.

But then, as expected, the act had slipped.

And so had Victor.

 

* * *

 

The crack.

The crack would be playing on repeat in his ears for the rest of his life, Victor had known from the moment he had registered the sound for the very first time.

The sound would definitely be worse than the pain, had been his second thought while he had still been rolling on the ice and holding his breath. Once coming to a stop, he had patiently waited for whatever conclusion he would be given and for the crack to be just that: a crack on the ice and a bruise on his face from where he had hit it after his uncontrolled fall.

Moments passed, again mere seconds for sure, and Victor had sighed in silent relief as nothing seemed to change. The echoing crack, and the ring of it having still been too loud in his ears, had covered for the few screams and yells around him.

After a moment of peace Victor had heard them though, and as he did, the pain had made its appearance.

The crack had been nothing compared to it, the sensation that then flooded every inch of Victor’s body something that had immediately erased his very existence.

There had been blood on the ice.

Victor’s career had ended on that day.

 

* * *

 

Yakov knocked on the door and announced his presence to no acknowledgement. As there was nothing else he could do, he took a hold of the handle.

After taking in one more steadying breath, he finally entered the room.

It wasn’t the room you would imagine to house someone with a leg injury bad enough to keep him in bed for most hours of the day. The space was controlled and bright, the curtains wide open and the floors cleared of everything to make it safe for when Victor needed to move around with his crutches.

The rarely used wheelchair Yakov had seen waiting by the entrance of the apartment.

The sheets on the bed were colourful, creating a balance that made Yakov feel ill; Victor looked almost exactly the way he had expected him to be, pale in between all the colour that seemed to have seeped straight out of him. Yet, the sight of him still managed to make it slightly easier for Yakov to assess, accept, the situation and take a step closer with words he had practiced for days:

“You have looked better.”

Yakov pulled a chair from Victor’s desk, taking it to the bedside where Victor was lying with a hand over his eyes. His long hair was loose in waves around him and he smiled at his coaches words.

Yakov had no way to know how far up it reached, but he doubted the smile to be of the honest kind. He knew now that he hadn’t seen Victor with one of those for almost a year at least.

“I won’t ask how you are feeling, but I would like to know what you think about all this”, Yakov continued, and Victor’s smile grew a little wider - borderline manic. There was no answer at first but Yakov knew when to be patient.

The smile on Victor’s face didn’t falter for a few minutes, and the movement that followed was equally slow. Victor’s hand briefly clenched to a fist before he lowered it from his face. He did not turn his eyes toward Yakov as he whispered:

“Nothing.”

Yakov nodded.

“No-one should be able to find out just how serious the injury is, as you asked.”

“Thanks.”

Yakov studied Victor's blank expression directed at the ceiling for a little while longer before he hummed.

“You wouldn’t be so desperate to keep everyone quiet about it if you didn’t think about getting back on the ice.”

The statement was sudden and also one Yakov had been prepared for since before stepping in the room. It immediately made Victor glare at the ceiling, still not sparing Yakov a glance.

“So what if I _do?_ I’m not getting back there, even if I wanted to.”

“You don’t know that.”

Victor huffed and followed the exasperated sound with a halting laugh. “Everyone’s been pretty fucking clear about –“

“All I know is that there have been worse injuries people have come back from. It will affect you for the rest of your life, sure, but if there is a chance you could try again… Would you take it?”

Victor finally turned to Yakov with anger in his eyes. For once, Yakov didn’t answer his challenge in any way, an almost bored look covering his own features. In this case, it worked better than anything else would have.

“I would. But it’s _not my choice_.”

“I suppose that is true, but you might as well try before giving up on it – you want to anyway”, Yakov stated and earned an exasperated hiss from Victor. He ignored it and stood up, continuing in rare admittance:

“If you need to know for sure before moving on, then go through the therapy and _try_. I will be there if you ever show up at the rink, competitively or not. There is no reason to quit being who you are.”

Yakov let out a sigh and turned to walk out of the room. “It is not your fault what happened, Vitya. It is not mine either, and, _believe me_ , I have gone down that path with more skaters than just you…”

Victor watched Yakov leave and the scowl was quick to fall from his face; there was nothing he could do to stop the tears that replaced it.

Tears of loss, relief, fear, respect –

Victor had a long way to go.

 

* * *

 

At the age of seventeen, Victor was in a hurry.

He needed to qualify and properly make his debut in the Seniors to reach for his goal, his time was limited now. Victor _needed to know_ that he had recovered, and he needed to make sure the entire world believed that as well. Finally showing his face outside of only local events, he skated with something akin to desperation - but, his determination and dreams were there to overshadow it once again.

Out of the many skaters Victor kept following there was still only one who truly mattered, being there to set the pace he now wished to follow. 

The skaters younger than him were not good enough to beat him, Victor swore even know, and most of those older were showing signs of too much confidence. He was confident too, obviously, but more than that he was desperate to make his debut count.

Victor wanted the gold, he wanted to win, and he wanted to be seen as the Promise he was.

He wanted to be beautiful.

 

* * *

 

Victor made it in on his first try at the Seniors, and his debut was almost as memorable as he had always hoped it to be.

Yakov had had his back, pushing Victor forward now that he had began to put together the pieces that had first fallen apart over two years earlier. Yakov never forgot about it though, still keeping a very close eye on him as he fought for his dreams.

And Victor’s return to the ice truly had been spectacular, in a way; he had gotten to face his true competition and made them see his devotion to being the one to soon wipe away their records. He ended his season with a high enough score to land him a spot in the following Autumns Grand Prix Circuit, then winning Skate America once he got there.

Victor would be seen.

His mother cheered him on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Yuuri's side of things, starting off with another "retrospective" :)  
> 


	4. A piece of metal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was never meant to make Yuuri feel this numb, to be celebrated by the world.

When Yuuri was twenty-three years old, he won gold at the Grand Prix Finals. He didn’t want it.

The realisation hit him hard while he stood on the podium, not allowed to let his smile falter. Yuuri’s heart was beating, harder and harder, and his eyesight grew more unfocused with each taken breath and flash of a camera.

Yuuri wanted to blame the sick feeling on something – _anything_ – that had nothing to do with the disgust he felt at himself.

More and more pictures were taken, the shutters continuously flashing before him, and he knew that for the rest of his life he would be seeing how others had captured the moment, forever reminding him of the thoughts that had ran through his mind while the lights kept clicking.

An achievement like his new gold medal was meant to be a moment of pride and happiness. Instead, he felt scared.

It was never meant to make Yuuri feel this numb, to be celebrated by the world.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had grown up with ballet, in a small town where your hobbies went far to define you.

He had been shy, still was he supposed, hiding behind other people and learning to adapt by watching how they acted. But with ballet, with the performances and routines that gave him more confidence and a clearer view on who he could be if only he tried, Yuuri had been determined to go beyond anyone’s expectations of him.

In the end, Minako showing him the ice had been exactly what he had thought he needed to go even further. Ever since then, Yuuri had admired the many skaters capable of looking like they belonged on its slippery surface.

With his own self-image having been unclear from the start, Yuuri had never been able to see even those skaters beyond their acts on the ice and the masks they put on to lure in their audience. He had thought none of that really mattered as their performances were all beautiful in their own right, and they made Yuuri want to create something of his own that he could also later show to the world.

Skating was about the enjoyment the routines gave him, enjoyment shared with those watching him perform. Yuuri wanted to give the audience something just like what he had gained from following skating since he had been young. He wanted the world to grow along with him.

 

* * *

 

Yuuko’s help, and the small town's rink having always been open to him, had pushed him onward to build himself a dream. Yuuri had been free to breathe and always aim higher.

And higher he had climbed, as high up as he could.

Skating had nothing to do with pride or trying to prove his worth to anyone else, Yuuri had told himself. He loved the ice, fell in love with the simplicity of its surface and how his own reflection made him look like something ethereal. He wanted to inspire those who saw it as well, to find comfort in their own skin.

 

* * *

 

 _They_ said he was talented, as if born for the life on the ice.

 _They_ said he was a going to be a legend, never forgotten and an inspiration to many.

The loudest voices around cheered him on, and the malicious whispers tried to pull him back. But Yuuri only heard the whispers, tried hard to not to pay those any mind.

He had a goal in mind, someday hearing _them_ speak of the things he had achieved and then wanting to see it all for _themselves_. There was beauty in skating, beauty he believed he had once seen for himself and now wanted to share with the rest of the world.

Yuuri wanted to be something _they_ would see, what _they_ could try to reach for and beat when the time came.

The whispers grew louder and he tried his hardest not to mind.

 

* * *

 

The world didn’t understand, instead trying to mould Yuuri to be what _they_ wanted. He realised this now.

 


	5. At heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri would be happy to let him have it all.

After the award ceremony, there were interviews, a few phone calls home and to Phichit, and then a brief meetup with Minako and Mari who had travelled to Fukuoka to see the Finals. A part of Yuuri was relieved to see them, and another beyond terrified by how empty their congratulations made him feel.

“Mom and dad really wanted to come but you know they’re not ones to travel much… And the traffic your skating caused is just too good for business! You should come home instead, to see them; a short visit won’t hurt”, Mari said, which made Yuuri laugh.

“It would, though... My schedule is killing me as it is, but… I have really missed you all.”

And I will be coming home soon, Yuuri thought with a smile on his face - a smile a little too bright for comfort.

He was scared of everything his current line of thinking would bring for him.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri used to believe that there was something comforting to competing in Japan and having his home country cheer him on to achieve his best scores. It wasn’t that way before his move abroad, but afterwards it had become a familiarity he had come to miss during the years in Detroit, always having cherished the chance to get back even for a short while.

But now it was back to being a threat as the entire nation wanted to celebrate his success, painting him as the champion he didn’t feel like he was at all. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Here, Yuuri hated the fact that he could understand everything said around him. At least in any other country, he could have always pretended not to know that he was the subject of everyone’s discussions, ignoring even the words spoken in English if he felt like he needed to.

“Celestino”, Yuuri quietly began, him and the coach being continuously interrupted by everyone around trying to have their chance to talk to the gold medallist. They had been completely surrounded by fans and the like back at the competition site, of course, and then all the way to the hotel.

Now at the banquet, with all the other skaters and their supporting crew, the sponsors and the organisers, Yuuri was trying his hardest to catch his breath before the next wave of people arrived to congratulate him. He didn’t feel like he had been breathing at all ever since he had stood on the podium, incredibly thankful to his nerves for holding it together and not letting him crumble just yet.

Yuuri knew the evening wouldn’t be easy, with him already desperate to be left alone. Thankfully Celestino had kept a close eye on him throughout the day, making sure the reporters had let him slip by as smoothly as possible to not get him any more overwhelmed than he already was.

“Excuse us”, Celestino said to the men whose names Yuuri hadn’t bothered to catch, “I’ll be right back.”

The choice of words was intentional, followed by a pointed look which Yuuri caught and appreciated. Ciao was giving him space to see if returning was even possible.

Celestino guided him away from the smiling crowd and their empty words, leading him to the back of the room and around a corner. They moved with polite nods and waves towards every familiar and non-familiar face they passed.

“How are you holding up?” Celestino asked once they were out of earshot of everyone else, and Yuuri nodded thankfully at being understood.

“I just need a minute.”

“Of course”, Celestino said with a smile, putting on a show of talking intensely with his student while Yuuri barely listened to whatever he was saying, taking a well-deserved break from everything else.

Yuuri thought himself lucky to have a coach like Ciao, at times; at the other end of the scale, Celestino was so proud of him that it was almost suffocating to think that he could never bring himself to tell the man just how uncertain he was of his victory.

He watched the entrance and how the crowd made way to the other skaters entering with their small groups. They immediately spread around to talk with those with influence, and Yuuri found himself wishing he was as enigmatic as some of the others - the kinds of Jean-Jacques Leroy and Victor Nikiforov making the space their own.

Watching them, Yuuri could almost forget that he was the one who had won.

Almost.

“Ready to go, or…?” Celestino asked, making Yuuri turn back to him. He remained quiet for a moment, clearing his head.

It was time to end this.

“Yes”, Yuuri answered with a well-practiced smile, the design of it known from winning-programs meant to charm their audience. “Let’s go back.”

 

* * *

 

An hour.

Yuuri deemed that long enough of a struggle to give these people his attention, after years’ worth of practice and pain to make him earn his gold medal in this event.

He smiled, stopping by everyone who beckoned him to join them before swiftly moving on again. He made his way towards the back exit with composed efficiency, holding down the anxiety that he knew to loom right behind his eyelids, clawing at his throat.

As long as Celestino didn’t spot his attempt to flee, Yuuri was fine. It wasn’t that the coach would actually try to drag him back, but Yuuri knew he would feel pressured to stay if caught and questioned.

“Y-Yuuri!”

Yuuri stalled at hearing his name, spinning his head around to face whoever was calling for him. Almost immediately, he realised exactly who the voice belonged to and, out of anyone, this person was one of the last he would have ever expected to come after him.

Although, it's not like he had actually been _here_ for Yuuri.

Victor Nikiforov appeared to have stepped outside sometime earlier and was now sitting on a bench to his right. The Russian skater cradled his phone to his chest, waving his other hand at Yuuri in what appeared to be barely contained excitement.

Yuuri looked around, noting that there truly was no-one else around for Victor to address. And he _had said_ Yuuri’s name, which should be clue enough for him to say something back.

“Yes?” Yuuri finally replied, cursing his faltering voice after having already looked forward to leaving the venue and being alone with his thoughts for the rest of the night. Thankfully Victor didn’t seem to notice anything wrong as he beamed up at him, jumping from his seat to hurry towards Yuuri as if just given permission to go forth with whatever he had in mind.

“I wanted to congratulate you! Your skating was incredible!” Victor exclaimed, now standing by Yuuri and practically hovering over the older man. He had so much joy on his face that Yuuri could muster up no energy to match.

Yuuri settled with a simple smile, thanking the other once more. He remembered briefly hearing the same words coming from Victor way back at the ceremony.

“I really do appreciate it, coming from you, but there is no need to…” Yuuri continued but his words died in his throat, not quite sure how to properly say what was on his mind. He had won gold - of course people would be happy for him, expecting him to endlessly share that joy with them.

The last thing Yuuri wanted was to be seen as rude, or smug. Although one might argue that he had every right to feel that way, even just for tonight.

But that’s not what he felt and he didn’t want to be misunderstood either.

This time Victor noticed Yuuri’s hesitation and frowned slightly. He glanced around at the darkening evening. “Why are you out here, shouldn’t you be at your party?”

Yuuri grit his teeth, hearing the implied weight at _‘your party’_ and trying his best to hide his discomfort. He wasn’t too appreciative of the other skater’s full attention on him, least of all on his very moment – they didn’t know each another and he really didn’t have to explain himself to _Victor Nikiforov,_ of all people.

In a rather uncharacteristic and immature, tired, move, Yuuri threw Victor’s words right back at him instead: “Why are _you?_ ”

Victor blinked, taking a small step back before breaking into another one of those trademark smiles of his.

“I tried to call my mother, although of course she wouldn’t answer! It’s already past midnight in Russia, I should have thought of that…” Victor chuckled, tilting his head in something akin to embarrassment. It was Yuuri’s turn to frown, taken aback by the other’s immediate honesty.

“I wanted to ask what she thought of the event… She did congratulate me earlier but we didn’t have time to talk for long, I was supposed to call back...“

“And you just had to call in the middle of the banquet?” Yuuri questioned, a little surprised at his own words escaping him. Victor didn’t seem to mind.

“I really wanted to talk to her... It would have been more fun than staying with the sponsors, for as long as Yakov doesn’t find me hiding here that is”, Victor admitted and absentmindedly pushed a strand of hair behind his ear as he went to rest his palm at the back of his neck.

Yuuri nodded, understanding the words far better than even Victor did.

He has all of this – years of this – ahead of him still, Yuuri thought, and then ensured himself that by ‘this’ he meant the success, love of the ice and admiration from his peers and certainly not his own doubts and weaknesses making him unable to enjoy any of that.

Victor would know how to deal with all this better than him – the younger skater already did, as Yuuri could clearly see. Russia’s Promise was gleeful to mingle with even the reporters always fawning over him, not serious in the least when he said they were too much.

Victor wanted this. Yuuri would be happy to let him have it all.

“Are you – are you okay?” Victor asked, noticing Yuuri space out with his brows furrowing. Yuuri immediately shook his head to clear it and then nodded once more, forcing out another smile as he did.

“Yes, I… Sorry. It has been… a long day.”

“Right. Yes!” Victor agreed, moving his weight from one foot to the other. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. At least I wasn’t on the podium, but still did well enough to be pestered by everyone here.”

Yuuri stared at the steady grin on Victor’s face, nothing revealing how he actually felt about his statement. This had been his first Grand Prix in Seniors, he had easily made it to the Finals, and Yuuri knew exactly how close Victor had come to winning the whole event.

Many had wished for him to - expected, even.

“Well, you… You came in _fourth_ – that is impressive, and so was your program”, Yuuri said, still pondering how his night had turned out like this.

If Yuuri knew anything about Victor Nikiforov, it was his love for everyone’s attention on him. While he didn’t feel like he should indulge in any of it, for some reason he still couldn’t stop the words of reassurance slipping out even without seeing any sign of the other actually feeling down about it.

“Aha! You saw!” Victor grinned a little wider, which made Yuuri’s frown turn just a bit deeper in return. “And true! With the breaks I’ve taken, and my injury, most people seem surprised by me being here! But some expected me to win just to prove everyone wrong! And, I won’t disappoint them – I will reach my goal!”

The cheerfulness he was witnessing was practically giving Yuuri a headache at this point but, having lost his own, he suddenly felt the need to understand exactly where Victor’s determination was coming from.

“A goal?”

“I’m going to be number one, of course! I will beat your record from today, as well as any others there are”, Victor cheered, posing dramatically.

Yuuri’s eyes widened, but he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling a little at the display. There was a bittersweet twinge in his heart as the smile stuck to his face.

“I supposed that isn't too unusual of a professional athlete?” Yuuri slowly said, making Victor huff.

“It’s not, you are right. But the way I’ll do it –”, all of a sudden, Victor fell quiet and looked aside. Yuuri was almost certain he could see a faint blush on his pale face as he eventually went to continue:

“…I would really like you to see it.”

Yuuri’s eyes grew wider, the words and the shy expression now crossing over Victor’s features taking him completely by surprise. “I-I – _What?_ ”

Victor looked Yuuri in the eyes, solid admiration in his gaze and taking over whatever embarrassment he might have just shown.

“I’ve followed your career, I’ve seen the way you move on the ice – it’s like you are the one making the music instead of simply replying to it. You… You have inspired me, and I want you to see what I can do in turn!” Victor exclaimed and took a step forward, taking a hold of Yuuri’s hand before the other could even register the movement in his shock. “I wanted to talk to you sooner but that would have been selfish of me, I… But… I have heard the rumours…”

“R-rumours?”

“That you’re planning to retire! I know they always say that, but… The way you looked, after the Finals and in the banquet – and now, leaving early”, Victor rambled on, almost desperate to let out everything on his mind even if Yuuri was unable to keep up with any of it, “I wanted to talk to you, to let you know first…”

“I-I don’t –“, Yuuri began, but Victor's hand tightening around his effectively made his words tangle to a stop.

“You are the one to who I want to show what I can do, I think you’re the only one who’d truly be able to understand”, Victor said with a mix of seriousness and shock, his voice beginning to falter as he seemed to realise exactly what he had thrown at the unsuspecting champion.

“That’s… That sounds… almost like a…” Yuuri stammered, his mouth not listening to his mind which was only capable of practically screaming at him to turn around and run.

Victor let go of his hand in shock, letting it limply fall back to Yuuri’s side. The younger skater bit his lip, an unsteady smile on his face.

“Sorry, I…? I didn’t know what to say to you, and it all just sort of started to… come out.”

Yuuri nodded, dumbfounded yet with a smile of his own. “I-I understand, believe me. It’s okay…”

Victor was still biting his lip, seeming to try to make up his mind on whether or not he should keep talking. Yuuri noticed, having a little mercy on him. He still didn't know why he was doing this, against all reason after having just ran from the banquet, when he said:

“If you have something else, please, tell me. I… I really appreciate your words, even if I don’t get why you are so focused on, well… me.”

Victor's mouth dropped open. “You are Katsuki Yuuri! You have to hear this all the time!” he exclaimed in confusion, making Yuuri shrug dumbly.

“I don’t, at least, I haven’t… noticed?”

“Oh…” Victor hummed, watching curiously as Yuuri shuffled on his feet. “Well. I meant every word, and you are talented. You won, didn’t you? The whole world should know as much.”

Yuuri laughed at that, and it was an empty laugh he was just barely able to masquerade as something a little brighter to not let Victor worry. “You are right, I did. Thank you.”

Victor nodded his head and, before he could say anything more, he was interrupted by his coach barrelling down from the entrance and glaring at them. Yuuri listened silently as the two talked in rapid Russian he had no hope to understand a word of, but it was apparent enough that Victor was being dragged back inside.

Yuuri immediately realised that he should hurry if he didn’t want Celestino to find him here.

“I have to go”, Victor said as he turned to Yuuri, appearing almost apologetic as he did. “But… If you really are leaving now, um, it was really good to meet you.”

Yuuri nodded, but he wasn't quite there to share the sentiment – again, he didn’t know the other skater and he had no interest to change that either. Not now, when he found himself seriously considering to leave behind the only part of their lives they shared.

Victor’s words, although kind, had only managed to hurt him further as he was left to think them through. Yuuri didn’t want to see the disappointment on his face if he actually ended up making the announcement he was almost certain was coming in the near future.

“I’ll see you later, then!” Victor suddenly grinned as Yakov took a hold of his arm and began to pull him back towards the building. “In the Worlds; somewhere else? Next year the latest, right? I’ll beat you for sure!”

Yuuri simply waved after him, his smile quickly disappearing just as Victor, too, disappeared from his view. Turning swiftly, he began to head for the hotel just around the corner in an attempt to forget every part of the evening he had just had.

No-one recognised Yuuri as he crossed the streets.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I’m using RL schedules, this chapter takes place when Yuuri wins the GPF at Fukuoka (2013). I had to shift the timeline slightly to match my simplified writing, and following a set schedule was the easiest way to do it! Also, I really wanted to keep Barcelona (2014) "as it is"…  
> \--  
> The time difference between Fukuoka and Saint Petersburg would make it so that at around the time of the banquet (~9pm?) it was still afternoon in Russia, I think. Victor's just lying!


	6. Just a little bit of pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit stared up at him and Yuuri felt his lungs practically giving out with how he was holding his breath.

The banquet had ended without an incident, Yuuri heard from Celestino the next day.

The coach looked at him in what he believed to be worry, but Yuuri didn’t want to discuss the matter any further. He simply stated that he had been too tired to stay and apologised for slipping away the way he had.

Celestino seemed to understand – but Yuuri knew there was no way he did.

There were more interviews that he had been dragged to next, some meetings to get done before they could fly back to Detroit. Empty words and avoided questions regarding his future plans haunted him and he knew exactly how the upcoming headlines would treat his avoidance of the subject.

Yuuri thought of what he should do once he got back to school. He would graduate in a few more months, determined to keep his schedule now that he was already so close. No additional practice would hold him back any longer.

And then he could go home, to Hasetsu, and see his family after too long. Maybe he would stay there, find some work.

Yuuri was scared.

 

* * *

 

He rubbed his eyes, wishing he could just forget every aspect of the Grand Prix.

They had returned to Detroit the moment they could, and Yuuri had been breathing the city in as soon as they had landed. A part of him wished that the next time he woke up, it would be in a town not anywhere close to the one he was currently at; in a time long before leaving for the sake of his skating related dreams.

Yuuri wondered what it would have been like if he had lived a life off the ice from the start. What it would have been like to never have come to Detroit and train under Celestino’s guidance and with Phichit’s friendship and support.

But this was not the time to think about that. It never would be.

The students and teachers at his school seemed excited for his return as they, too, celebrated his victory. Some students had sent him messages and invited him to join whatever plans they had for the weeks to follow. Suddenly Yuuri found himself more popular than ever, simply staring at his phone as he sat in the car on his way back to the dorms.

The Grand Prix couldn’t be overwritten, and the new level of success had changed Yuuri and how he was seen by others. Expectations were rising.

But none of that mattered here and now as all he looked forward to was meeting up with Phichit. Yuuri hadn’t told his friend exactly when he would be arriving, wanting to have just that little time for himself after Celestino dropped him off at the school.

The coach was now asking if Yuuri was okay on his own.

“I am, thank you. For everything”, Yuuri replied with a grateful smile. They had won gold, both of them, and Celestino deserved every bit of the cheers Yuuri got and more.

“No, thank _you_. And Yuuri, you deserve to get some rest – I’ll see you back at practice later!”

The car drove away and Yuuri could almost imagine nothing to be different as he turned to look at the building behind him. Still, those kinds of temporary lies were of no use and he quickly disregarded them.

Once he dragged his suitcase through the halls and up to their shared room, he stopped by the door. Before knocking and surprising his roommate with his arrival, Yuuri tried to prepare himself for the only praise that he might not be able to handle.

Phichit would know.

After years of them being friends at such close proximity, there was no way he couldn't tell something was wrong with Yuuri. He would see it better than even Minako and Mari had, face to face, when the tired look on his pale features had been enough to throw them off right after the ceremony.

Phichit would know, there was no doubt about that.

 

* * *

 

After the initial review of everything that had happened after Yuuri left to Japan, and during the competition itself, he was finally able to take a break and breathe some more. Phichit’s excitement and eagerness to hear everything had shook him, once more throwing him back to the way things had been before he had left.

Before the Finals, the victory and the piece of metal around his neck, Yuuri had been filled with a sense of careful excitement and worry. It had all shifted around so fast, when reality had crumbled to match his plans only to make him feel weak instead.

“I can’t believe I’m actually holding a gold medal, from the Grand Prix… I want one!” Phichit yelled, lifting the medal before his face and watching it shine.

Yuuri laughed, reaching for the piece of metal in a playful manner. “Hey, you can’t have mine! I worked hard for it, get your own!”

“I will, just you watch me!” Phichit grinned, still making a show of pulling the band around his neck to admire the medal's weight. “I could get used to this, you know.”

The two of them laughed as they ate, Phichit having bought them snacks to celebrate Yuuri’s return. He had known his friend wouldn’t want to do this anywhere else but their room, after being surrounded by the gazes of the entire whole world for so long.

“What about the banquet, was it as cool as they say?” Phichit inquired and Yuuri chuckled in return.

“It was fancy, yeah. I felt really out of place…”

“Odd thing to say as a figure skater.” Phichit grinned but there was no judgement, only understanding, in his voice. “They seem to think we’re all at home in events like that. Did you dance?”

The teasing look on Phichit face made Yuuri blush and he shook his head adamantly. “No, no – they tried to ask me, but –“

“You won, of course they did! You should have put your _skills_ to good use, would have really charmed yourself some support. Maybe even found some–!”

“Phichit, _please_ ”, Yuuri said with a cringe. “I had other things in mind, and the last thing I wanted was to mess everything up by making a fool of myself…”

“Again, you won. I think everyone would have been more than happy to forgive you for _anything_ you might have done.” Phichit smirked, only dropping the subject to bring up another close to his heart:

“What about the other skaters, did you learn anything I don’t know yet?”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t join in on your gossips”, Yuuri stated, which made Phichit show him his tongue.

“I don’t gossip!”

“Of course not”, Yuuri replied offhandedly and with a smile, thinking through his few meetings and brief talks with his competition during the days leading up to the Finale. He hadn’t had as much time to do so now than he would have had during the qualifiers and, especially after his victory, he really hadn’t been in the mood either. No-one had had anything else to talk about than the results.

Except…

“I did finally get to meet your 'idol'”, Yuuri pointed out, making Phichit tense up immediately in glee.

“He’s not an idol, just one of the biggest names to join the circuit! And you need to tell me all about him! Is he really the way he portrays himself, I mean, is Victor Nikiforov really as charming as they say or the biggest asshole to exist?”

Phichit leaned forward, making Yuuri practically have to shove his face away. “I don’t really know, but he seemed nice enough to me. You need to go make your own opinions, next time.”

“I will! But before that, you still need to give me the details! Did you actually talk to him, or –?”

“I did, yes. He came up to me after I left the banquet, to congratulate me and say he would beat me next time”, Yuuri replied before Phichit could go into a rampage. “He seemed pretty cool…?”

“Cool? Like cool-cool?” Phichit was grinning so widely that Yuuri felt like his face would break in half.

At least Phichit’s spirits always managed to pull Yuuri into it as well.

“I guess…?” Yuuri said. “And apparently really emotional. I honestly had a hard time keeping up with him, before his coach dragged him away.”

“That’s great! Seriously, he’s been gone for a while and, after his comeback, he hasn’t really been as, well, open as before… But his debut in the Seniors has been incredible so far and I really wanted him to be a nice guy. It’ll be cool to actually meet him, and the others”, Phichit cheered.

“I think you will get along”, Yuuri mumbled, right back to thinking through his meeting with Victor. “He did say something a bit odd, though…”

“What?!” Phichit launched forward, a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. The other skater simply chuckled at his barely contained excitement. It was familiar, for sure.

“He apparently wants me to, uh, be there to see him win… Or something.”

“Wait, wait – Nikiforov said _what, exactly??_ ” Phichit’s hold grew stronger and Yuuri sighed, as if he hadn’t done enough of that to last for days. But at least now it was because of the fanboy antics of his rink mate and nothing else.

“He said I was the only one who would ‘get it'…” Yuuri explained with implied air quotes to match the statement. Phichit nodded eagerly as he hung on to his every word.

“Really? Understand what exactly?” Phichit questioned in wonder, smirking like a maniac. Yuuri shrugged.

“His skating..?”

“Yeah, sure, but saying that when you’re both professional athletes surrounded by a ton more is odd, don’t you think? Pretty specific for sure, to say _you_ need to be the one to _watch him_ ”, Phichit pointed out teasingly, although Yuuri was well aware of all that.

He had had a long time to think about it, even if he had tried his best not to.

“A bit creepy, if you ask me…” Yuuri said back, making Phichit break into a laugh.

“He’s Victor Nikiforov; he’s known for being straight-forward ever since his debut in the Juniors four years ago!”

“He is known for a lot of things, sure. But I didn’t find anything about him being my fan”, Yuuri said and frowned.

Phichit racked his own brain, filled with mostly useless details about their competition, and then agreed thoughtfully. “You’re right… Huh.”

They sat in silence for a while before Phichit poked at Yuuri’s side, making the other flinch slightly and lift a brow at him.

“You looked him up.”

Yuuri turned to glare at Phichit, ignoring the smug look on the younger skater’s face. “What else was I supposed to do! And don’t make this weird!”

“But it is _weird_ , Victor’s like… He’s self-confidence incarnated, exactly why the skating world is so enthralled by him. Not to mention talented. And beautiful! It’s practically unfair, he’s got it all going for him – he’s what, nineteen?, and already making a comeback to watch out for! Even I lost to him…”

Yuuri studied Phichit’s face silently, seeing no resentment there.

Phichit was excited, already looking forward to the next year to make his way to the Finals that he had just barely missed with his placement this time around. He had been nothing but supporting of Yuuri, through it all.

“Ever the more reason to wonder what he sees in you”, Phichit then added deviously, disrupting Yuuri's thoughts and making him retaliate by immediately poking the other right back and chasing him away from his bedside.

Phichit settled to the ground by his feet, looking up with an expectant smile. Yuuri leaned his head against his palms, finally admitting what was going through his mind in regards to Victor’s words:

“It’s nice to hear, right? An actual world renowned skater looks up to _me_ …”

Yuuri knew that's what he had once thought he had wanted, but know he wasn't so sure how to feel.

“The most impressive fan indeed.” Phichit broke into another grin seemingly wider than any from before. “I can’t wait to see you skate against one another again! Although, I’ll also be there and putting in everything I‘ve got to leave you behind!”

_Oh…_

“Right.”

Yuuri’s trademark smile was back, the one which was always a little too tight around the edges and not quite reaching his eyes. Phichit had known him for long enough to see right through it, as Yuuri had been certain he would.

“Yuuri…”

“Yeah?”

Phichit stared up at him and Yuuri felt his lungs practically giving out with how he was holding his breath.

“You’re planning to compete next season, right?”

Yuuri breathed in and out before nodding slowly, looking at Phichit steadily. His minds was running in circles, trying to find a way to escape.

“Of course I am.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was so tired.

He had studied hard and finally graduated, which he was proud of. His family had been unable to come see him, of course, but Yuuri was more than looking forward to going home to them instead. Most of his money he had long since forwarded to them, knowing he no longer needed any of it in Detroit. 

But first, the Worlds.

He had won the Japanese Nationals with clear marks and came second in the Four Continents without putting much effort into either of the events. Celestino hadn’t been too happy about him slacking off but had held back on it because he understood how much work Yuuri had done to finish his studies, already another year late due to his focus on the previous skating seasons.

And Yuuri had performed well, _better than well_ , to not give Celestino anything to complain about.

The problem was that Celestino expected Yuuri to be fully back on his game for the Worlds and the coming season, now that he had everything else in his life under control. But every single practice, competition and medal had continued to further break his heart.

Yuuri wasn’t prepared to disappoint Celestino, Phichit or his growing number of fans, but that’s exactly what he was going to do.

He just had to find the right words first.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the character prologues! Time to actually start this thing. Next up is an act fondly named the “Proposal”, of course starting with yet another of those retrospective-things.


	7. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stood on the podium, side by side, and Victor was beaming with so much happiness that Yuuri felt like he was once more being blinded by it.

The practice had been dreadful, as had the interviews and the meetings with the other skaters. Trying his best to forget all that, Yuuri kept a steady hold of his calm and focused on putting the hours of work into good use to make his last competition memorable to everyone. Not forgetting about himself.

 _I love skating, I love the ice, I love this,_ Yuuri repeated in his mind like a mantra, no matter what it said about his mental health considering how he knew that, in a few days, he would be leaving it all behind. This season had been his last.

Yuuri had already told Celestino, if not about his break then about needing to talk to him after the competition. It had to happen soon after the event to not let his stance falter.

Until then, they were both willing to ignore the coming discussion and what it could mean, only focused on making him win. Celestino had told Yuuri that there was no doubt he would get the gold, being in his best form yet.

Yuuri wasn’t so sure if he wanted to go as far as to win, though, as it would be even more awful to explain his decision after that. Even his age went against the break-argument he was planning to make, although with an injury it would be easy –

_No._

Yuuri wasn’t even going there.

 

* * *

 

Victor was excited, as always, but there was something bothering him still. He had kept a close eye on the other skaters during the practice, and one of them more than the rest. He wasn’t sure why, but he was certain there was something off about the Japanese man.

But as his skating had been as beautiful as ever to watch, even if he had been practicing with brief motions and the easiest parts of his routine, Victor only ended up spending a brief moment wondering about what had changed.

Victor couldn’t wait for the next day’s competition and the short programs.

Still, for a reason he didn't try to study further, he felt worried.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s short program went well, and so did Victor’s. All of the skaters were phenomenal and the competition close.

The day finished with Victor in second and Yuuri in third place. The world held its breath as it watched.

 

* * *

 

Victor’s free program had been a flop in his mind, but he still secured himself the third place by the end of it. Yuuri’s free program on the other hand had been as wonderful as ever, and it pushed him back to first.

They stood on the podium, side by side, and Victor was beaming with so much happiness that Yuuri felt like he was once more being blinded by it. Otabek Altin was thankfully balancing it out for him, stoic to his right.

Through it all, Yuuri was smiling and Victor didn’t see through the facade, his vision clouded by his admiration for the older skater. He forgot whatever worries he might have had earlier, replacing it with the love only ice ever brought out of him.

“Congratulations, Yuuri! I knew you would win!”

A photo was taken, the three champions and their medals shown to the world.

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

The world was cheering, louder and louder.

 _They_ said they were both talented, as if born for the life on the ice.

 _They_ said he was a natural, and Victor carried the words with pride.

 _They_ said Yuuri was a legend, not caring if he didn’t want to be one.

The world didn’t understand.

Victor and Yuuri didn’t look at each other as they smiled at the crowd with two different believes, unaware that they were being what _they_ thought _they_ wanted to see for the very last time. The next year would be different, the two of them coming to share a common view.

 


	8. Exclamations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It would be a shame to lose such a talent.”

Yuuri stood in the middle of the room, smiling and laughing while surrounded by the group trying to squeeze their way into his very existence. He had won, they needed to congratulate him, and they needed to be _seen_ _with him_.

The celebration, which was efficiently trying to drain the last shreds of life from Yuuri, had already been going on for a while, and there would be more of them later that he wasn’t planning to partake in. One was enough, and tomorrow would be difficult enough for him even without adding everyone’s judgemental gazes to it.

Some people had already moved from going through pleasantries to actually enjoy themselves. Yuuri wished he could join them, glancing at the crowd near the stage while his attention was demanded by everyone not interested in leaving his side.

Yuuri drank his champagne, careful not to overdo it but undeniably graving over the way more drinks could help to further dull down his senses and make the rest of the day that much easier to survive. But he needed to remain reasonably clear-headed all the way to the meeting if he didn’t want to present himself as a complete joke.

“Excuse me”, Yuuri finally said, gesturing towards the back of the hall. “I will be right back.”

A smooth lie was all it took for people to make way to the gold medallist and direct their attention to anyone else for them to feed off of. Yuuri no longer cared how his thoughts were painting the scene and the many pretentious festivities he was left to face like a battlefield.

Slowly, he made his way through the room and left his empty glass behind. He was feeling a sense of deja-vu at his escape, and the feeling grew even stronger as he turned towards the bathrooms located the furthest from the main hall.

In the desolate corner of the building, Yuuri came face to face with no other than Victor Nikiforov.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed through his own surprise at seeing the other, hurrying onward to meet him halfway. “I’ve wanted to talk to you all day, but you’ve been _so_ busy –!“

“So have you”, Yuuri interrupted, glancing behind Victor in the otherwise empty hallway as he cursed his luck. If he had to meet someone, it just couldn't have been anyone else, could it. “ _Why_ are you here?”

“On a break.” Victor beamed, ignoring the resentment Yuuri had been unable to stop from appearing in his voice. “Same as you?”

Yuuri nodded, not taking Victor as one who would have a need for breaks from all the attention he was taking in like a sponge. Beyond that, Yuuri found nothing to say.

Victor seemed to notice, shifting on his feet without allowing his smile to falter an inch. “Your free skate was incredible, the best performance you have ever had", he said, to actually go through what he had wanted to talk about from the start. "As the world record shows!"

“Yes, I… I am proud of that one. I wasn’t sure I would be able to pull it together after the previous day, but… I did.”

Victor agreed, turning gears to wholeheartedly complain about his own free skate while Yuuri stood there and came to the conclusion that this was, at least a little, better than being with the crowd in the other room.

“– they must have been blind, there is no way the reduction should have been _that small_ –“, Victor rambled on.

Although Yuuri hadn't paid too much attention to the rest of his words, this part caught him.

“W-wait”, he interrupted Victor again, not even realising how the Russian seemed to be the only person in the world Yuuri kept doing that to, “you wanted to get less points?”

“Yes, of course”, Victor huffed. “If I am going to get a medal, at least give it for something I am proud of!”

“But your skating was breathtaking!” Yuuri said, startling even himself as he did. He found that he had meant it even if he hadn't realised when he had been watching, too absorbed in his own problems:

“I thought you deserved every –!”

Yuuri paused as he noticed Victor being stunned to silence, his eyes looking like they were actually growing watery. It was enough for him to find himself beginning to freak out.

“I-I am sorry! I don’t mean to, ah, if you disagree –“, “Thank you – you have no idea –“, Victor whispered, his voice getting lost under Yuuri’s frantic correction.

They both paused, blinking in surprise.

“You are… welcome?”

 

* * *

 

Victor continued his speech about his debut almost as if he hadn't been interrupted in the first place. Yuuri smiled all the way through it, honestly for once, although the words he barely heard did clench his heart that was now filled with so much respect for this skater who had fought his way here.

Yuuri was almost ashamed of having won over someone who wasn’t even sure he deserved to be on the podium with him, with a routine Victor felt like he had butchered in the worst place possible.

Five or so minutes later, Yuuri didn't even realise he was following as the two of them went to return to the main hall before anyone could come look for them. As they walked, Victor finished his monologue only to look at Yuuri with the widest, most curious smile imaginable.

Yuuri wondered what he had missed now, lost in thought and barely listening no matter how hard he tried.

“Can you repeat that, I didn’t… hear you?”

The question was there by accident, Yuuri uncertain with his speech as he realised where he was and saw the time, fear beginning to clutch at his chest. Victor didn’t seem to notice nor mind, happily repeating:

“Oh, I was just wondering about your plans for the next season. No need to tell me though, I love surprises.”

 _You will love this one then,_ Yuuri thought with a hollow chuckle as his eyes grew wide. The music from the hall was too loud and painful in his ears, after the blissful silence of the hallway.

“…I am not sure.”

“There’s got to be something, I can’t wait!” Victor cheered as they entered the main hall and Yuuri immediately reached out for a new glass of champagne from the table on their right.

“I was a little worried, I think I told you?” Victor continued with a thoughtful hum, not noticing the tightening grip Yuuri had on the glass as he took a long gulp of it. “The rumours about you, you haven’t really addressed them yet. But then I saw your free skate, and I am so excited for next year.”

“Right, the rumours”, Yuuri mumbled, the practiced smile back and growing more and more stoic on his lips. He swallowed, looking at the room as he spoke with a voice covered in fake humour: “What if I did consider… taking a break?”

Victor stalled, for a mere second, before his smile was back and as bright as ever. He pushed lightly on Yuuri’s shoulder. “You would have to pay me back if you did.”

“What does that even mean?” Yuuri asked, looking at the other in what he realised to be curiosity. These were the first expressions he was getting from saying his previous words out loud.

“I would be _so_ disappointed!” Victor grinned. “I really want to skate with you more, we have barely had the chance.”

“All about you, then”, Yuuri chuckled with his throat tight.

“No, no”, Victor smiled but there was a worried kind of hurt also apparent in his voice. He picked up a glass for himself as they stood there, watching the scene unfold and bothered by no-one. Apparently, the crowd was more than willing to let the two medallists have their talk in peace.

They weren’t spared of everyone's curious glances though.

“It would be a shame to lose such a talent.”

The words were as practiced as Yuuri’s in events like these, too languid to be nothing more than an act to please his company's expectations. Victor was switching his style around to match him, visibly turning to someone twice his age. Only then, suddenly, did Yuuri remember that he was truly was speaking with someone younger than him and on the very brink of his debut; already too good at pretending.

Yuuri turned to Victor almost apologetically and gestured to the room around them. “I, well, I have always felt the same way, watching the skaters who were here before us.”

Victor followed his gaze and took in the people talking, whispering and laughing – the other skaters and athletes of different sports having the time of their lives without even needing to win anything to do so. Of course there were also those covering their disappointment, but the mood wasn’t affected in the least by any of that.

“It’s a short time, what we have with this sport. It would be wrong to waste it”, Yuuri continued and regretted his words immediately at seeing how much Victor seemed to appreciate them.

Yuuri hated the lies and his inability to stop them from leaving his lips. He hated to see himself systematically build them up to hurt others the same way he was being hurt by them, unintentionally so.

“Well, breaks can also be useful”, Victor cheerfully stated, the act dropping as he relaxed again. “I know that, first hand...”

Yuuri agreed with a thoughtful hum, never having taken a full season off for an injury or any other reason but aware that he did find himself regretting not doing so. Maybe then he could have avoided the situation he was in.

“But I won’t deny that I would be sad if you took one _now_ ”, Victor added after a moment, and continued to be the pain of Yuuri’s existence by not letting the matter go.

Yuuri sighed, covering his exasperation as a short laugh.

“And what should I do to change that?” Yuuri asked, taking another sip of his champagne but this time with more control on the motion.

“If you were done with skating, you would have to promise to be my coach instead!”

Yuuri almost spurted out his drink at that, and as he kept coughing Victor reached to pat his back in surprise, asking if he was alright. The moment passed quickly, and Yuuri turned to stare at him with his eyes wide.

Victor couldn’t help but to go straight back to smiling at the sight.

“W-what? I can’t – _couldn’t_ , I mean –“

“You’re free to do what you want if you leave. So… Why not be my coach?” Victor asked, his voice as sweet as his smile.

“J-just like you said, you would imply that I would  _want_  to c-coach you instead –“

“You don’t want to?” Victor’s expression turned into that of heartbreak, and deep down Yuuri knew exactly how hard the other was working to manipulate him for the sake of seeing his reaction.

“I… Victor, I can’t – _could never be_ – your coach! I don’t know how anyone could ever even expect me to do, I –“, Yuuri still continued to ramble on in his shock, unable to stop himself especially when faced with the innocent look on Victor's face.

“You practically coached yourself before your current one picked you up, didn’t you?”

Yuuri flushed, having since their last meeting told himself that there was no way Victor was actually a fan of his, instead saying all these things as a mere _joke –_

“How do you know that?”

“You seem to shy away from attention so the more detailed interviews were in Japanese only - but, I had some help! It’s easy to get, nowadays.” Victor was smiling again, his expressions shifting just as rapidly as his words and leaving Yuuri lost and far behind.

“Fine, fine!” Yuuri exclaimed in embarrassment, not wanting to hear anything more – or to be heard by the crowd inching closer as they took notice of his embarrassment.

Thankfully, or not, Yuuri was saved by Celestino walking over just then.

“We’d better get going.”

His coach didn’t sound too pleased with him, Yuuri noted with his fussy mind. If he had any idea what the coming meeting was going to entail, Celestino had every right to be unhappy.

Yuuri took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax; to be ready to hold his stance.

“Alright.”

Yuuri glanced back at Victor as he was led away, not sure if the other skater had said anything more with his ears ringing as loud as they were from the combination of the music and the conversation they had just had. Apparently their chats were always meant to be interrupted like this, although to Yuuri it had been a blessing on both occasions.

 _There won’t be a third time_ , Yuuri thought to himself, noticing Victor’s apparent happiness as he watched him leave. The younger skater waved after him with the same excitement as before, Yuuri nodding his head as he turned to look away.

Yuuri wondered if Victor really thought he had only been joking as well.

 

* * *

 

The evening that had followed was not kind to Yuuri, and it ended with him too drunk to recall anything of the events that had led him where he was. He woke up in his hotel room with a headache too much to handle, instead choosing to remain comatose for as long as it would take for it to be gone for good.

No-one came to check up on him, no Celestino appearing to drag him on his feet, and briefly Yuuri wondered why that was.

A glance at his phone and the continuous flow of notifications from his friends, family and the public, worked well to jock his memory. The only memory that mattered at this point, at least.

Yuuri had announced that he would be taking a break – _retire_ , his mind autocorrected but apparently hadn’t said out loud based on the headlines – and then finished the night by terminating his coaching contract.

Yuuri couldn’t believe it. But, at the same time:

He had been sober, up until the moment he wasn’t, and the decision to let the world know he had already made weeks – _months_ – ago. Yuuri had simply followed through with what he was supposed to do from the start.

“Then… W-what am I going to do now?”

Yuuri threw the blanket over his head and decided to stop thinking about anything just for a little while longer.

It was easier said than done.

 

* * *

 

Victor stood in his hotel room in a stunned silence, barely even holding on to the phone at this point. The news had circulated fast in the skating community, of course they had:

_Figure Skating World Champion, Katsuki Yuuri, announces a break on the day of the medal ceremony._

Victor’s hands shook.

He was wide eyed and so, so confused that he felt like turning around and getting straight back in bed. It would be easier to try to get up again later, in a world where he didn’t need to deal with the announcement.

He didn’t spare a glance to the medal of his own, by his bedside.

_“I have been considering this for a while, even before my graduation this spring”, Katsuki Yuuri says in a closed interview. “The Worlds, and the end of the season, felt like an appropriate time, although I am a little shocked at the success I have had this year. I understand why people might have difficulty seeing where I am coming from due to it.”_

Victor scrolled through the interview slowly, beginning to repeat every word out loud as he did:

“Still, I did not let that affect my decision.”

 

* * *

 

Victor’s return home had been eventful, to put it mildly.

His bronze in the Worlds was loudly celebrated, the interviews and photo sessions taking too long for his liking. Still, he wasn’t about to let his discomfort show, instead allowing the world to think he enjoyed every second of his spotlight like he usually did.

Victor wanted to get back on the ice, wanted its familiarity to clear his head. But first, he rang the doorbell and waited.

“Y-you are finally back!” his mother exclaimed and enclosed Victor in a hug the moment she opened the door, Victor clinging to her with all he had.

Victor wanted to get back on the ice, certainly, but first he would spend time at the only other space of clarity he knew, with the one person who would listen. "I hope you've been well?”

They hugged for a while, Victor’s mother pulling back from it only to wipe away her tears with a teasing smile on her lips. “My, always so polite. I'm so immensely _proud of you!_ ”

She pulled him inside, Victor laughing as she pushed him towards the living room while she went to the kitchen to get him something to drink. Victor offered his help but she shushed him immediately. “Let me do this much for you, I’m not _that_ old.”

Victor agreed silently, letting the words go unsaid as he went to sit down on the couch. He looked around the room that hadn’t changed an inch over the years he had lived here or, after, when he had moved a little closer to the rink.

But that wasn’t quite true, Victor thought as he looked at the one frame placed over the fireplace with great care. It was always clear of dust and taking over the place of honour with its strong presence.

The eyes of his father was the one detail Victor always searched for, wherever he went, just as the framed photo of him was the only detail to never truly change ever since it had been added to the room’s surface. Everything else faded and shifted but his father’s presence remained as a silent force of comfort, frozen in time.

“Here.” His mother gave Victor a steaming mug just like the one she kept in her hands as she sat down next to him. “Tell me everything, every detail!”

Victor let out a sigh of relief, finally allowed to try to speak his mind in honesty not coloured for the media’s sake. She knew that much, always there to give him space and waiting for him to open up.

Although it never worked out quite like it should, Victor was getting better at it.

Living on his own had helped although at first it had been to his mother’s great concern. After everything that had happened, she hadn’t understood his decision to want to be on his own. But, in the end, the separation had made both her and Victor appreciate the times they shared even more, prompting Victor to finally want to break through the silence that had been clawing at him ever since his father’s death.

“It was wonderful, they had put so much effort into the venue! And the way I skated in the short program, I can honestly say it was some of the best in my life! Although the free program was… Well, the score was still good so I guess it went better than I saw it as, I really need to practice –“

An hour passed easily, Victor running through the details as clear as he could remember them while his mother eagerly prompted him on. She loved every second of his retelling, having watched the show live just like everyone else but knowing this very moment was something just for her ears.

“Oh! And the banquet, it was great! I got to dance too, Mila from the rink held me up for that challenge from last month. It’s embarrassing, I really should have paid more attention on the classes Yakov demands – my moves were _bad!_ ”

His mother laughed, the clear sound ringing through the room. It was easy for Victor to join in with a laugh of his own.

“You should, I’ve told you as much. A world class figure skater not able to stay on his feet even when dancing to a slow waltz is an embarrassment to my name”, she replied with a chuckle, wiping her eyes as she took in a steadying breath.

Victor grinned, squeezing her hand. “I have learned my lesson. This year, I will –! “

Victor’s words came to a sudden stop, his expression morphing into one of uncertainty. His mother tilted her head, her attention on his unfocused eyes. Gently, she turned the hold on their hands so that Victor’s were in her’s as she held him steadily, bringing him back to ground.

“What is it?”

Victor jumped slightly, turning to look at her. She could feel the way he tensed, almost pulling his hands away but instead taking the time to calm down with a few breaths he took in time with her.

Victor spoke with his voice quiet and a little unsteady, his eyes searching for something other than her gaze to focus on. “I’m not really sure. But I might be… thinking of doing something…”

“Something stupid?” his mother filled in for him with a rather snarky yet soft smile on her face. Victor returned the look after a pause, having learned it from her to begin with. His voice grew firmer as he simply said:

“Yes.”

“Are you going to explain what it is? Or do you want me to blindly give you my blessings?”

Victor chuckled at that, having been caught as he always was. “I’m not sure… I feel like an idiot.”

“And you are one. But I can also tell you’ve already put a lot of thought into this, whatever it is.” She laughed at the blush making its way on his face, not being mean but loving the way Victor was breaking free of everything that had held him back for so long. “You don’t need my permission.”

“I know.”

A silence followed, the two of them sharing a moment in listening to the room respond to them with no words. She turned to look at the photo by the fireplace, Victor’s eyes not far behind, before her attention was back on her son.

“We are proud of you, no matter what you end up doing. Just… Never feel afraid to ask for help if you need it”, his mother said. “I will always have your back. I will always _listen_.”

“I know…” Victor repeated, giving her hand one more, light squeeze. “So… I-I would really like to hear your opinion on something…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a bit of background on the things Victor's mom says in "Chasing after a punchline"! There's also another scene I removed that would take place between this and the next chapter, we'll see if I end up posting it as another oneshot.


	9. Graceful landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor Nikiforov - always ready to surprise his crowd.

Yuuri’s return home had been eventful, to put it mildly.

The usually quiet town of Hasetsu had been immediately filled with noise at the _“World’s top men’s singles figure skater”_ showing his face for the first time in five years, right after the news of him taking the next season off had broken out. There was no end to the questions, reporters and attempted interviews.

On the day of his return, Yuuri had chosen to ignore all of that as he hurried upstairs to Vicchan’s shire instead. He immediately apologised for not having been able to see his pet since he had left, and for not having been able to be there a year ago when Vicchan had passed away.

No-one had the right to complain about Yuuri wanting to come home after all this time, to see the life he had left behind when skating had first taken it all over. He hoped at least Vicchan would understand.

Of course he knew it made sense for his family and friends to be worried about him, what with all of them thinking Yuuri was hiding something from them – an injury, a heartbreak, a deadly disease maybe. Those seemed to be the only explanations they could come up for why he would want to so suddenly leave behind his career, especially right after victories he had worked his whole life to get. He had so few words to explain himself that it only made everyone more paranoid.

Especially Minako had been pissed off when she had tried her hardest to get Yuuri to admit what was going through his mind, and all he could say was:

“I needed a break.”

No-one had the right to complain about that, Yuuri was adamant to think.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was quick to find a new routine.

Every morning he woke up early, ran to the beach and then along it, practically from one end of Hasetsu to the other. Then he would head over to the Ice Castle.

Yuuko and Takeshi had been happy enough to see him back, not questioning his decision and allowing him to have all the space he needed. They were all smiles and welcoming words and Yuuri had missed them, too.

 _Their children are trouble, though,_ Yuuri thought as he skated lazy circles around the rink before the day had even gotten started. He was scared of losing his love for the ice, having quit for an entirely different reason.

His new routine would still include the ice, the simple loops and low jumps that didn’t strain his body too much. Beyond that, Yuuri filled his life with dance.

After their rough start, Minako didn’t complain. She welcomed Yuuri back to her studio, but there was more careful calculation than ever as she watched the way he moved across the floor.

 

* * *

 

It took only a few weeks for everything to calm down enough for Yuuri to realise he felt like a child again. He finally existed in a space where he could relive the years before everything had become so complicated. It wasn't as comforting of a thought as he might have once thought, but it wasn't that bad either.

His new routine turned out to be not that new at all, but Yuuri didn’t stop.

He trained through the mornings and then went to help at the hot spring for the rest of the day, no matter how slow the business was and how little there was for him to actually do. After dropping the additional strain from the daily practices designed to keep him at his prime, he was quick to gain some weight as well. He didn’t mind that either, even when Minako pointed it out and asked if he was prepared to burn it all off again when he did get back to competing.

Yuuri didn’t know how much longer he would feel the need to lie to them.

 

* * *

 

A dog.

A poodle that looked a lot like Vicchan, just twice his size.

Yuuri was lying on the ground, efficiently crushed by the larger than usual poodle he was certain he had seen somewhere before, and his thoughts were running in circles to figure out why. The only thing that came to mind on that moment was Phichit; Phichit making him watch that video of –

 _No_ , never mind.

The poodle was licking his face and Yuuri laughed as he tried to softly push it off. The gesture didn't do much good, but he wasn't exactly complaining either as he got caught by the dog's enthusiasm and offered the poodle some scratches she seemed to appreciate.

“D-dad”, Yuuri said and halfheartedly pushed the dog's face off of his own. He turned to look at Toshiya who laughed at him by the door. “What –?“

“Makkachin”, Toshiya filled in with a smile, “arrived a little earlier, with a good-looking foreign guest.”

Slowly, Yuuri was able to work his way back to his feet by offering the poodle as many scratches as she could possibly want. “Oh?”

“Actually, you know him!” Toshiya added in, _helpfully_. “He’s currently in the back.”

It took a few seconds before Yuuri's hands stalled in the dog's fur, the suddenly ending scratches making her let out a whine as she nuzzled his hand. Not paying Makkachin any mind, Yuuri’s eyes widened and he began to shake his head back and forth in a sudden sense of denial.

He didn’t want to think about it, about Phichit showing him the video.

“W-why –?”

Both Makkachin and Toshiya were left to watch after him with their heads tilted to the left as Yuuri turned around and ran. He almost fell on his face when he hurried up the stairs and through the hallways at his sudden state of panic, not taking the time to apologise as he sped past the few people around and almost tripped on his feet at every corner along the way.

“Don’t be –!“

Victor Nikiforov.

Sitting by a table, with a mountain of food surrounding him and an overly tired look on his face, was Victor Nikiforov. Lazily, the skater turned to look up at Yuuri who stood still by the doorway, breathing heavily in his shock.

A beat of silence followed before Victor’s eyes widened, maybe even more so than Yuuri’s had. He let out a gasp as he stared up at the Japanese man.

“Y-Yuuri...!” Victor sputtered out as if he, too, was surprised to see him.

As if he had _any right_ to be more shocked than Yuuri was, seeing the Russian here, _at his home_ , after all the work he had begun to do to leave everything behind -

Victor stumbled as he tried to get on his feet without pushing the small table over, but Yuuri didn’t give him the time. Instead he turned on his spot, without his blank expression shifting an inch as he shook his head, and walked straight back out of the room with long strides.

Victor Nikiforov –

Always ready to surprise his crowd.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Victor to make his way upstairs while guided around by Yuuri’s mother. He knocked on the door he was led to before taking a quick step inside the room, seeing Yuuri sit on his bed and stare blankly at the wall opposite of him.

Victor hummed under his breath, leaning against the doorway as if he belonged there and hadn’t barged into Yuuri’s home uninvited.

Yuuri didn’t want to look at him, willing the skater to simply disappear if not believed to be real.

"You retired."

As far as starting lines went, Victor’s sucked. It sounded like he was accusing Yuuri of somehow wronging him.

And just like that, Yuuri was more than done ignoring him. He sprung to his feet and took a few steps towards the other man. He glared up at Victor who had no right to judge him.

"I did not. And, as I have told everyone; taking a break is what I wanted – _needed._ "

"Why?"

There it was again – _why?_ Yuuri had heard the same question on repeat enough times by now to have the answer ready. At this point he didn’t mind how self-centred he sounded, or how proud it might have made him seem to not allow anyone the chance to beat him.

It seemed that lies were the only way to make anyone accept his decision, and maybe if he repeated them enough times he would be able to believe in them as well.

"Winning was... That was it, I got what I wanted and now I will move on to live my life. Honestly, I don’t know what problem you could possibly have with that."

"Okay."

"...Okay?" Yuuri asked, baffled as he watched Victor look away from him in disdain. "What is this to you, why does it matter?"

"I told you!"

It had been a while since he had last lost his cool, but Yuuri couldn't stay quiet now:

"No, you did not! I understand being mad at me – believe me, you aren't the only one! But whether or not I _'waste'_ the last years of my competitive skating career does not belong to _you!_ "

For a moment, Yuuri felt the words taste foul in his mouth as he seemed to recall himself having said the exact opposite to Victor not that long ago, although he couldn't remember when; similar sentiments had been thrown around a lot lately, for obvious reasons.

In the brief silence that had followed his reply, Victor glared at him almost childishly. The look fit his polished features and tall frame far too well.

Yuuri snorted.

“ _Why_ would you even come here? _Why bother?_ ”

Victor crossed his arms, staring down at Yuuri.

“I told you…!” Victor finally said on repeat but with his voice having long since turned into a whine. He turned his gaze ever so slightly to look past Yuuri with a wounded expression.

Yuuri could feel his own stance falter as he realised just how he was acting, how he really must be missing something here, but he still tried to keep a hold of this newfound anger that allowed him to let out everything he had been feeling without sputtering for once. This wasn't his problem, it couldn't be.

“Told me _what?_ ”

Victor’s voice was silent and his accent heavy at his words, but it didn’t make it any more difficult for Yuuri to pick out what he had said:

“I want you to coach me…”

“What –?”

“I want you to coach me!” Victor repeated a little louder this time, now turning his piercing blue eyes back at him. His lips were pursed and the determination – the same determination Yuuri had seen carry him on the ice – was all there.

“You haven’t told –!“ Yuuri began, with a step back. At the movement, Victor eyes darted away again with what appeared to be barely concealed hurt and Yuuri's words finally tangled to a stop at the sight.

He had no idea what was happening here.

 

* * *

 

It was Victor who stormed off, making up his mind in a sudden flash of wordless anger that made Yuuri lose all capability for thought. Having been left alone in his room, Yuuri sat back on the bed and stared at his feet, his mind empty except for Victor’s voice still seeming to play on repeat in his ears.

It had already been ten minutes since Victor had spun around and rushed out of Yu-topia to go who knows where.

“Stupid, this is so _stupid_ …”

Yuuri heard his own words fall from his mouth but didn't quite register what he was even saying at this point. He tried to shake his head clear to figure it all out.

Victor Nikiforov, _Russia’s Promise_ in the skating world, had made it to the Grand Prix Finals at eighteen years of age.

Victor Nikiforov, making his mark by coming in fourth in said competition, had come up to Yuuri during the banquet afterwards to tell him how much he admired Yuuri and wanted him to witness his, expected, victories in the coming years.

Victor Nikiforov, challenging Yuuri when the Japanese skater had already retired – no, _taken a break!_ –, had appeared at Yuuri’s home, in Japan, to ask him to be his coach.

Victor Nikiforov, with the whole world’s eyes on him, had left behind his home and a renowned rink to fly all the way to Japan – to Hasetsu – _to ask Yuuri to be his coach?_

There was just too much wrong with the picture and thinking about it seemed to do him no good. Yuuri pressed his face into his hands and cursed.

There was no way Victor was serious about any of it.

No way.

But Yuuri had no choice but to go and find him.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t too difficult to find a tall, beautiful and angry Russian in a rather small Japanese town – especially not when most of the town followed men’s singles and knew exactly who both Victor and Yuuri were.

Yuuri found him sitting at a bar and Victor didn’t even look up from the glass of water in his hands as Yuuri joined him without asking for permission. And really, why should he, after the other man had just barged his way into Yuuri’s life the way he had.

They sat in silence for a while, Yuuri not ordering himself anything and instead watching whatever program was playing on the small TV behind the counter. He knew he would have to be the one to start talking as it was apparent Victor didn’t understand why he was acting the way he was about this, whatever _this_ was.

There had to be something here that Yuuri was missing that will clear things out. Unless it was only clear in Victor’s head.

But to find that out even that much, Yuuri would have to explain himself to the other first.

“I’m sorry, I know your career must be… a rough subject.”

To his surprise, Yuuri took too long to get started and it actually ended up being Victor who broke the silence first. Despite the verbal apology, his voice didn't sound sorry at all.

Yuuri’s hands balled into fists on his lap and he did his best to not let his teeth grit. The man next to him was nothing like the one he had talked to once, or the one he had heard of from Phichit, and Yuuri didn't know how to act.

“I just don’t get it, why you quit…” Victor continued and didn't glance Yuuri's way.

“I am taking a break, a year off – no-one said anything about quitting”, Yuuri stated in an attempt to assure the other to calm him down first. It equalled to nothing.

“You retired.”

Victor glared at him now, making Yuuri unable to look away from him. Ethereal might be the right word to describe him by, his apparent anger somehow only working to strengthen the description. What he was dealing with now really was the very opposite of everything Yuuri had ever thought Victor Nikiforov to be.

“Fine. But that… That still doesn’t explain what you are doing _here_ ”, Yuuri mumbled and bit his lip, realising that there was no other way to get out of this. But there was no denying the sense of relief he felt at the simple word of agreement in reply to Victor's accusations, either. It was the first time he had even partially admitted the truth to anyone.

Yuuri loved skating. He would always find a way to return to the ice, just never again competitively.

“I told y–“

“You want me to coach you, yes, I heard you!” Yuuri felt like banging his head against the counter, having defensively lowered his voice mid sentence to ensure no-one heard what their "meeting" was about. Explaining this was going to be a pain and Yuuri was already certain that pictures of Victor in Hasetsu had made their way to the press.

“Then what?” Victor asked, tilting his head as if everything made perfect sense all the way up to Yuuri rejecting him. “That’s why I came…”

“What? I, I am not a coach, _Victor_. You can’t just fly here and say that to me, as if it’s an obvious decision to be making”, Yuuri explained, trying to remain calm. Victor looked at him with a frown.

“But it is, isn’t it…? You retired, or ‘ _took a break’_ , and now you have nothing else to do with your time? When I asked before, I meant it but I didn’t actually think you were serious about ending your career… But when it was confirmed, immediately after, I… I didn’t know what else to do. So, here I am!”

When Victor began to talk, the words falling from his mouth like a waterfall, Yuuri was once again reminded of how difficult the man was to follow. Maybe it was the language barrier holding him back, or maybe just the way _Victor was –_

“At first I thought, well, maybe you would let me know if you considered my proposal? Even if I didn’t make it clear that’s what it was, I chose to wait a little while just in case! But when I heard nothing…”

“Wait, I, what prop–?“

“I'm here because I want to know for myself if, maybe, you would be interested in considering it? I want you to be my coach, yes, I am serious about that, but only if y-you want to be mine”, Victor finished, completely turned around in his seat to face Yuuri and once again clinging onto his hand. Yuuri had no idea when that had happened.

Yuuri felt how tight Victor’s hold on him was, looking down at their hands and then back at the other’s pleading eyes.

“Why would you think that I can coach you, anyway…? Your coach – Yakov, right? – he’s been doing that for years and you are already on the top. You don’t need me for anything, you have to know that”, Yuuri said slowly, finally understanding how serious Victor was and knowing to regard him as such to move everything along. But even with that being the more rational approach…

Yuuri found his heart was beating hard. There was no way, _no way_ , he would ever consider this so called proposal of Victor’s; no way was he considering it now. He was not that insane.

“I don’t need Yakov, I guess…? Not the way I know I need you”, Victor admitted, his eyes barely visible from under his hair and his lashes, looking down to the ground in embarrassment.

“He’s given me so much and you’re right – I am where I am thanks to him! But… He can’t make me what I _want to be_. The skills I have, Yakov could take me to gold again and again but the medals are worth nothing to me w-without… I don’t need to be the best in the world for what I want to be seen as, although… I want to be that too. Um.”

Pride and arrogance where both there, true, but there was something else even stronger there that Yuuri was completely mesmerised by.

Love for the ice; all this love that Yuuri had once seen and wanted to create for himself, now realising that he could still partake in making it visible to the world.

Before, Yuuri had wanted to create something to inspire others with, only to think he had failed when everyone had only wanted to focus on the act he had built for himself. But Victor had seen him, then, for real. Victor had seen what he was aiming for and said everything Yuuri had wanted to hear but only a little too late –

Or maybe it had been the exact right time, instead.

“What do you need from me?” Yuuri practically whispered, captured by Victor’s eyes that were once again completely focused on his own. Victor broke into a grin as he realised just what Yuuri question meant.

“I need you to perfect me?”

 


	10. Shared ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without a way to put any of it into words, Victor skated out his dream through his attempt.

“I want to show you something”, Victor said, all smiles and barely contained excitement as he and Yuuri walked down the quiet streets of Hasetsu together. Yuuri had planned to head back to Yu-topia after their surprisingly heartfelt, insane and draining talk, but apparently Victor had other plans for the evening.

“What exactly?” Yuuri asked, still careful around the other skater and afraid of the proposal he had apparently implied himself to be considering, for reasons unknown. He just knew he would be regretting this whole day in the following morning, and for many months to come.

“Hmm… You have an ice rink here?”

Yuuri’s eyebrows crunched down and his steps came to a stop as he looked up at Victor, the Russian beaming at him and also stopping to wait for the reply. Yuuri needed to speak some sense into him, he really did. This was too much, _all of this_ , they didn’t even know each other and –

“Yes, of course – but it’s already getting late and, uh, you don’t want to use the rental skates there –“

“It won’t take long! And I packed everything, skates included! I’ll just have to run and go get them, and then we can go! Please?”

Puppy-eyes. The most piercingly blue case of puppy-eyes Yuuri had ever seen.

“B-but –“

“The rink isn’t open this late?”

“It is.” In his thoughts, Yuuri used an impressively wide range of multilingual vocabulary to curse his own weakness. “But I need to make sure and reserve it. I-it’s being looked after by friends of mine, so…”

“Great! Where is it, how do I find it?” Victor cheered, filled with glee and already looking ready to rush off. Whatever he wanted to show Yuuri, it must have been important.

“Calm down, let’s just… Let’s go together, no hurry”, Yuuri raised his arms in an attempt to contain Victor’s high spirits. It didn’t work, of course, as Victor continued to grin widely as he leaped forward.

“Okay!” Victor grasped Yuuri’s hand with his own and hurried them back towards the hot springs. “You’re going to love this!”

 

* * *

 

At the rink, Yuuko and Takeshi greeted Yuuri and Victor with open excitement, mostly from Yuuko’s part. She was practically shaking in excitement and admiration as she introduced herself to Victor.

Yuuri and Takeshi watched the exchange in exasperation, still smiling at Yuuko’s childlike eagerness to meet one of her idols from the past season. It was easy to see where her children got it from.

“Are your daughters here?” Yuuri asked as he and Takeshi waited for Victor and Yuuko to be done with their opinions on last year’s routines, the exchange wobbly with Yuuko fighting through it with her English.

“No, we didn’t tell them just yet…” Takeshi replied with a conspirational nod towards Victor. “They’d lose it, seeing him here.”

“They wouldn’t be the only ones”, Yuuri mumbled. “I can’t believe no-one has found out he’s here yet… He isn't exactly hiding it.”

Takeshi agreed, a questioning look on his face as he lifted a brow at Yuuri. “ _Why_ is he here?”

Yuuri held his stance, trying not to show the rush of emotion taking over every time he spared a thought for that _why_. He shrugged, not saying anything which in turn was answer enough.

Takeshi smirked. “You’re in trouble, you know.”

Victor turned around as if summoned by the choice of words, leaping towards them and automatically reaching for Yuuri’s hand in which was appearing to become a habit for him. “Let’s go!”

And just like that Yuuri was dragged away, leaving Takeshi and Yuuko to grin as they looked after them.

 

* * *

 

“You have warmed up properly?” Yuuri asked for what felt like the hundredth time. Victor’s smile kept growing wider with every sign of worry he picked up on.

“Yes! You’re acting like a real coach already, I’m so happy!”

Yuuri sputtered and turned away from him. “I just really don’t want you to get injured here, _in Hasetsu_ … The situation is complicated enough without you adding to it!”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri, I know what I’m doing”, Victor said with a laugh, spinning gracefully on the ice.

Yuuri knew Victor was right. The man was a World Championship bronze medallist and had spent the past hour preparing for this skate, the time including the run from the hot springs to the ice rink. Victor really wanted to do this, and Yuuri was only truly worried about finding out what _this_ was about. Again.

“I have a flash drive, in my bag”, Victor said as he skated to the edge near Yuuri and pointed at the bag in question. “Can you put it ready?”

“Sure…” Yuuri agreed, opening the front pocket Victor directed him to. “This is a routine of yours?”

“Partially, yes”, Victor said, speeding off for one more round around the rink as Yuuri went to place the drive on the stereo nearby.

Yuuri waited until Victor slowed down, moving towards the middle of the rink and taking a stance Yuuri hadn’t seen him do before. Whatever this routine was, it wasn’t from any of Victor’s competitive pieces, all of which Phichit had made him more than familiarise himself with throughout their shared years in Detroit.

There was a pause before Yuuri pressed play, and Victor took a deep breath.

The first note was enough to catch Yuuri's breath.

The music began with silent, steady humming that immediately made Yuuri’s body grow rigid as if preparing to move. He let out a gasp, a hand over his heart as he watched Victor begin to move in time with the rising beat. His eyes were closed as he spun, adding his own elements to the routine from its very start.

But there was no denying that it was Yuuri’s routine -the first routine to have ever truly been _his_. It was a routine he hadn’t skated to for years now, but it was still deeply rooted in his muscle memory.

Victor skated Yuuri’s world stage debut with life and vigour in his steps, and it brought back all the emotion Yuuri remembered running through his mind when he had first done the same; when he had first been seen as someone worthwhile by the audience that had only then decided to learn his name –

At once, Yuuri remembered himself regretting not being able to bring out the full potential from this score specifically selected for him. He remembered his slipups and the shame he had felt on even the smallest of mistakes he had made.

But this performance was different.

Victor was gorgeous as he skated, his long hair flowing behind his every move. A little surprised by the fact, Yuuri found himself not feeling bad about it as he watched him. He didn’t feel overshadowed by a talent that skated this routine with so much more grace at almost the same age Yuuri had been when he had performed it himself.

No, Yuuri had never seen this exact routine before, and he certainly had never seen it outside of recordings highlighting his mistakes, the loose rotations having been pointed out by his coach.

Now Yuuri saw it the way he had wanted it to be seen. Never before had he been allowed the point of view of his audience.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t flawless.

Victor was running out of stamina early on, adding in elements he had no strength to finish. He stumbled the most noticeably at his last landing, correcting his stance by roughly supporting himself with both of his palms touching the ice. But not for a second did he lose his grace.

He knew the way he held the routine together wasn’t perfect, and that was the point. He was aiming higher than he could ever even imagine himself reaching, only to see the look on Yuuri’s face.

Victor had a content yet nervous smile on his face at witnessing Yuuri’s undivided attention on him. He glanced in his direction every chance he could without being distracted, relishing in the feeling of his dream a step closer to coming true.

This had been the piece Victor had always skated to, to keep his love for the ice both before and after his injury. This was the routine Victor had once watched and ever since then dreamed to see polished by Yuuri one more time, the honesty of it something he had always reached out for when the acting became too much.

Without a way to put any of this into words, Victor skated out his dream through his attempt. He made his movements as flawless as they could possibly be, like this, performed on his own.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri saw the mistakes, itching to correct them and see the finalised dance it could create. And that was when he understood why Yakov couldn’t help Victor any further.

Victor wanted to be everything anyone could see, he wanted to win through perfection based on his own ideals –

The routine came to an end, Victor stopping and contracting his body practically in half as they both held their breaths and the music hit its final note.

Yuuri gulped, tears in his eyes as he slowly lifted his hands to clap uncertainly. First, the movement was slow and soft, but the volume steadily increased as his mind felt like shattering to pieces, not knowing what else he could do to let it show.

Victor lifted his gaze, holding his body upright as he gasped for breath. He stumbled towards the gate that Yuuri ran to open for him.

Yuuri didn’t stop, _couldn’t stop_ , from reaching out and encasing Victor in his arms.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t speak for a while, Yuuri quickly wiping away his tears at the shame of his emotions hitting him the way they had.

Victor had sat down, breathing heavily as he drank water and leaned against the rink. Yuuri looked at him carefully and wasn't quite sure how to break the wall of silence building between them after the more emotional display.

“D-did you like it?” Victor finally asked, a look of both worry and bliss on his face after letting go and sharing something that had been such a huge part of his life for a very long time now. He looked up at Yuuri who was standing next to him, his own expression blank.

Yuuri nodded shakily, glancing down as he bit his lip. “I… I loved it, as you said I would.” He couldn't not be honest for once, Victor deserved that much at least for what he had made Yuuri realise.

Victor beamed, holding back tears of his own as he hid his face from Yuuri. The stunned silence turned out to be a blessing for them both, allowing them to not just yet face the reality they were now in.

“Good.”

They both understood, after all.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for Victor to get back to full spirits, once again surprising Yuuri by returning from the dressing room in an even more hyper mood.

“I’m starving, what should we eat?” Victor asked as he clung to Yuuri’s side.

Yuuri didn’t have the energy to feel embarrassed by the display, only thanking Takeshi and Yuuko for letting them stay so late. He then waved them goodbye and turned to the exit, Victor joining in with farewells spoken in Russian that made Yuuko practically squeal in delight.

“It’s getting late but I am sure my mother still has something for us left from dinner”, Yuuri finally replied once they stepped outside. Victor clapped his hands together.

“Good! You interrupted my meal earlier so I haven’t had a chance to try much of the food here.”

Yuuri let out a halting chuckle as he briefly thought back to the way he had met Victor at Yu-topia, not too long ago at all. For a moment longer he wanted to ignore the thought of how much had already happened since then and shifted to proudly think of his mother’s dishes instead. “Well… My mom will be happy to hear that, I know she would love to make you try everything.”

Victor let out a sound not too different from the one Yuuko had just made, a happy skip in his steps. “I can’t wait!”

And so the evening passed with Victor trying out Yuuri’s favourite dish and eating impressive portions of it, Yuuri only capable of watching from the side in wonder. Afterwards, they headed upstairs where Yuuri’s parents had arranged a room for Victor from close to Yuuri’s own, expecting Victor leaving Makkachin behind to mean that he was planning to stay for the night.

Yuuri said goodnight while Victor leaned down to greet Makkachin, then immediately ignored the way Victor called after him as he hurried off to shut his door. Yuuri jumped in his bed as the events of the day slammed their way to his mind in one solid whump.

He lay there, still adamantly shutting out Victor’s antics behind his door in favour of getting lost in his own thoughts. He replayed the way Victor had skated, his smooth steps and spins and the raw emotion he had shown that had practically sweeped Yuuri right off his feet.

"I am going to regret this", Yuuri blurted out and turned to his side, his breathing heavy.

Before he could even close his eyes, his phone beeped quietly by his bedside. Automatically, he reached for it after having forgotten its existence for the past few hours. He hadn’t even noticed that he had left it behind when he had first ran after Victor.

Yuuri lifted the phone close to his face and the sudden bright light in the dark of the room blinded him for a second before he could actually read any of the message he had received, belatedly noticing that he had gotten quite many of them while he had been gone.

Most of the messages were from Phichit and Yuuri went to open them first, too tired to realise just how unusual the number of alerts was for him. There had been less of them even after the announcement of his "break".

He read the latest message once, then twice, three times now…

Then, finally, Yuuri’s eyes widened in horror as he registered the implication of his old rink mate’s words, not needing to scroll through the rest of his messages, or the alerts, _or to click the link_ , to know what was happening before his phone even rang.

Takeshi called and Yuuri answered him with full knowledge of what he was going to say even before his childhood friend apologised for his daughters' behaviour. 

_"Apparently some pictures of Victor in Hasetsu were posted and they sneaked in the rink only to find you there, we’re so sorry –!”_

Takeshi said they would be taking the video down immediately, but Yuuri knew more than well that it would make no difference at this point. The video was there to stay, and he could only tell Takeshi it was "Okay" and to do what he wanted about it.

Yuuri ended the call and rolled onto his side to gather up the blanket. He held it tight against his chest and focused on his breathing.

The alerts seemed to be coming in a growing volume now that he was aware of them, and Yuuri was quick to spin around to turn his phone off. He pressed a pillow to his face in a silent scream, wondering if Victor was seeing the same; was the younger skater worried, or ashamed, or –

He would have to face all of this in the morning, Yuuri realised. With that in mind, he forced himself to swallow down his growing panic the best he could to get at least some rest, confused tears threatening to fall from his eyes and his breathing once more catching in his throat.

Instead of focusing on his fear, Yuuri settled to replay Victor’s skating in his mind. To his surprise, in doing that, he found himself a little glad over the footage the children had filmed.

At least now there was a recording of it for him to see for as many times as he wanted, to find his resolution.

 

* * *

 

The morning that followed was filled with careful excitement, on Yuuri’s part. He wasn't the only one surprised by it.

There was fear too, of course, and avoidance of the responsibility he had apparently taken to, what with everyone who had seen the footage now speculating about his role in all of this. But, for now, Yuuri was determined to ignore that side of it all.

The rush of reporters was not quite as easy to sidestep, but Victor took the brunt of it when answering their questions with practiced ease and indirect reasoning. It was a relief as Victor knew why he was here better than Yuuri ever could, the champion-turned-maybe-coach well aware of that fact.

He might be considering something that he would come to regret soon enough, but that didn’t meant Yuuri could intentionally bombard Victor’s career along with his. Victor had told him to take his time regarding his final decision but, while he did just that, both Yuuri and him had to try out if they actually could, somehow, make this work.

And so Yuuri began to build them a new routine consisting of dragging Victor to his feet first thing in the morning and pushing him out the door for his run. Every morning that came after would be a repeat of their new-found routine, Victor breaking into a smile every time Yuuri glared at him when he took too long to get up.

As his maybe-coach, Yuuri was failing to hide his relief at this, also new, purpose Victor had chosen to give him.

Yuuri loved the ice and found himself happy to be given a chance to try to get back on it in a way that was more true to his dream than his previous career had been. Victor was simply glad for being there to see Yuuri try exactly that.

But first…

 


	11. The reply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor said he was serious about this and, as Yuuri chose to regard him as such, they would both need to prove it to one another.

“Phew…”

“It wasn’t that bad”, Victor said and then chuckled as he sat down on the outdoor bench by Yuuri. The other was still trying his best to catch his breath.

“It wasn’t? You didn’t even understand half of what was going on…” Yuuri complained, shaking his head tiredly to calm his nerves. “The reporters? Not a problem, compared to my parents…”

“They didn’t seem too worried”, Victor replied, thinking back to the smiling faces that had greeted him for a few days now at the Yu-topia. “Or mad. Even your sister seems nice.”

“Sure, the reporters were a good boost in business so they have been a little busy! But actually having to explain to them that _yes_ , I will be attempting to coach you and, _yes_ , if they are okay with it, you might be staying over for who knows how long”, Yuuri rambled on in one breath, continuing further than planned and surprising even himself with the way he couldn’t stop:

“That’s a lot to throw on people after you have lived across the globe for five years and returned with the plan to quit your career!”

“A break, you called it”, Victor half-heartedly said before his expression turned serious. He nodded to himself, slowly swaying from side to side. “But they were okay with it, weren’t they?”

“…Yes. Even Mari. Or… Especially Mari.” Yuuri huffed, leaning back now that he had gotten most of it out of his chest, trying his best to copy Victor’s usual calm.

“That’s great, then! And I’ll pay them back, for every day I’m here.” Victor's relaxed grin was back on his face and Yuuri couldn't help but to feel a little jealous as he looked at it. “You did tell them that?”

“Yes”, Yuuri repeated, a little worried now. “I translated what you were saying, but… They maintained that it is fine and that you don’t need to do that, so… We will just have to wait and see.”

Victor smirked. “Right! I’ll pay, though, no question – I just need to win some more competitions first. And once I do, your coaching fee is the next in line.”

Yuuri turned to Victor, a little surprised at himself for not even having thought of what he would be getting out of this to begin with. “Oh… Coaches are paid… It's an actual… job, contracts and all.” His eyes widened and he turned to stare ahead in shock at having completely dismissed that side of it until now.

“Of course they are”, Victor laughed. “And on our level, they’re paid _well!_ So, don’t think I’ll forget.”

“S-sure”, Yuuri mumbled and nervously tapped the edge of the bench. “We will have to see about that, too…”

Victor looked up at the darkening sky, his features taken over by the same easy-going smiles as usual. Among many other things, Yuuri was confused by how quickly this setting seemed to become the norm for them.

Considering how everything in Hasetsu was only just beginning to calm down now that the reporters had apparently gotten what they wanted - or all that they could, anyway - out of Victor and him, Yuuri was finally beginning to realise just how the next days, weeks and _months_ would change him. They already had.

Victor's appearance in Hasetsu had had the immediate impact to get Yuuri to speak more freely than he had for a long time, especially to a stranger, and Yuuri had a feeling that the argument they had started out with had helped in that. It was an odd thing to be thankful for, Yuuri thought with a huff, but he also knew that this would never go anywhere if he hadn't been able to speak his mind from the start.

Victor was a part of his life now and, if everything worked out, he would be here to stay. Everyone knew that and Yuuri had the responsibility of so many new things.

It felt kind of nice, Yuuri was surprised to find after the sudden lack of purpose that had overtaken his life. For as long as his anxiety kept at bay, at least.

“Have you thought of how we’ll start my training?” Victor asked curiously, turning his eyes to Yuuri.

“Yes, actually. I haven’t done anything like this before, and I wasn’t exactly planning on this so I am… really unprepared, as you know… But I guess we need to talk everything through first.”

“It’s okay, we’ll figure this out together. Oh, we can start with me telling you how I practiced in Saint Petersburg, and you can do the same about Detroit.”

“Alright”, Yuuri agreed, offering Victor a small smile. “That’s a good way to get to know each other, too.”

No matter what happened next, the first step would have to be for them to start becoming at least somewhat familiar with one another.

“Right.” Victor nodded eagerly, scooting a little closer to Yuuri to immediately get started with his story:

“I started skating when I was eleven, which I guess is pretty late, but my grandmother was so in love with the sport that there was _no way_ I wouldn't have fallen in love with it too –!“

 

* * *

 

“Your injury –“, Yuuri went to interrupt, Victor obviously trying to sidestep the subject as something that hardly mattered. “Tell me about it.”

Victor startled, appearing to almost curl into himself ever so slightly as he looked away. Yuuri was surprised at the way his act crumbled so suddenly, usually better put together to avoid attention to the cracks of vulnerability any human showed.

“Well… It wasn’t that bad. I took a little longer off to make sure I’d make a full recovery, and –“

“I need the details, you know that”, Yuuri interrupted warningly. “If you want to give me a chance to coach you, it is going to have to be done properly. Also, it's your career literally on the line - not mine.”

After years of skating, the one thing you learn not do is lie to your coach about your condition. It was their duty to keep you going, after all, and only by keeping an eye on what’s holding you back can they make sure you will stay with the sport for as long as you can. One injury, even the smallest, could be all it took to end the career, the lifestyle, a skater has spent years building.

“I’ll… I’ll get you the papers and scans”, Victor gave in after a brief pause, yet without actually explaining anything. 

“Thank you”, Yuuri replied with a nod and then waited, not sure if he should push the matter further like a real coach would. Isn’t that what he was supposed to be, to be taken seriously? Victor said he was serious about this and, as Yuuri chose to regard him as such, they would both need to prove it to one another.

“You’re right”, Victor suddenly said, his voice serious, and Yuuri jumped a little at the silent crack it had also held. “I… I have limitations, I suppose is a way to put it. My injury, it wasn’t… It wasn’t good.”

Yuuri frowned. He continued to look at Victor with his undivided attention that the other seemed to respond to well, being more truthfully open and less like his public facade with this show of patience.

“I wasn’t supposed to get back on the ice afterwards. It ended my career long before it even got started, but… Yakov kept quiet. I begged him to not tell anyone how bad it was, and the other two skaters who saw the accident were also on my side, somehow…” Victor let out a small sigh then, smirking. “I don’t know why, though… I thought they hated me.”

Yuuri nodded slowly. “You dropped off the face of the earth, I remember Phichit telling me about that”, he said, after a pause to think it through. Victor huffed out a laugh with no humour in it.

“I did. Yakov held some interviews to let the public know my break would spread over two seasons, to give me time, and I… I wasn’t doing too well.”

Yuuri had nothing to say to that, unable to imagine what it must have been like. He remembered, vividly, how during his years in Detroit Phichit had kept him well informed of everything happening to their possible competition. Victor Nikiforov was a name Phichit had been very fond of after his performances in the Juniors and taking over the world with his charm.

But Victor had disappeared soon after that, the interviews ending and his picture rare to see in any of the mediums Yuuri had followed. Victor had been sixteen at the time of his injury, Yuuri pieced together from what he had just been told, but he had already been taking a break before that had even happened…

It must have been awful for someone like Victor, having already made the ice his home. And now he seemed to expect Yuuri to have something to say about it.

“I-I have never received serious injuries, but I was constantly terrified of that. I can’t even…”

“I was told I could no longer do the one thing I was good at, to end a career that didn’t even exist yet”, Victor blurted out then, his hands clenching at his knees. “Yakov saved me in many ways then, before I could ruin it all over again. I-I just… He was right, I couldn’t stop trying to get to where I am now. I had to be sure, instead of giving up…”

Yuuri felt his heart give in, feeling his hand twitch as if to reach out so he could pat Victor’s shoulder with his rusty moves of reassurance. “You made quite a comeback.”

Victor smiled, glancing at Yuuri’s hand that fell back to the other’s side and not doing anything about it. “I did. But still, I… A part of me didn’t want to tell you, finally free of Yakov’s worry. I can’t control my need to be the best, but I know I need to be careful.”

“Okay. I won’t be afraid to stop you if I feel like I have to. But I will do my best to help you to your goal, too.”

Victor let out a laugh, silently thankful. “ _Our_ goal?”

Yuuri smiled and, again, nodded his head. He was starting to get the feeling that he had long since given up on “trying this out”, instead devoting everything to making it happen.

It was better, wasn't it, to take it seriously from the start.

 

* * *

 

The mood recovered quickly, with Victor excited to share more of his past training and his aims now that Yuuri had accepted a part of him that he barely even allowed himself to remember.

“Huh… So, you have never been serious about any form of dancing?”

Victor shook his head eccentrically, his loose hair following after the movement in a way that made Yuuri back further away, dizzy just from watching it.

“Yakov had us take lessons of course, his wife was a world class ballerina who held some too, but mostly it was about the basics, balance and our own skating routines – I never had the chance to fully master any! Or, I did but, well, I didn't take those chances.”

“But you know the basics… To ballet?”

“Yes! I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have, considering how necessary it is for skating… I don’t know, I just never got the same feeling out of it? But I knew you did, so I tried more with ballet than any of the other classes. It was fun”, Victor said with a level of devotion that made Yuuri blush.

“Okay… Uh, that’s another thing I don’t get. You actually were my fan?” Yuuri asked, after months of wondering and denying the idea. Now he had the perfect chance to clear it all out.

With Phichit having tried to call him for days now, this was certainly something he would try to get out of the looming conversation when they finally did have it. Yuuri didn't think himself quite prepared for the excited and confused screaming he would no doubt be greeted by, but it was better to have some answers ready for his friend.

“ _’Were’_?!” Victor’s eyes widened before he pulled out a full-on pout, making Yuuri desperate to hide the small smile of relief the look automatically tried to bring out of him. “I _am_ your fan! I love the way you skate, the most out of anyone! A-and, after my injury even more so, to be honest…”

Yuuri brows furrowed at that. “Why?”

“Because you are _amazing_!? It was clear you had problems with your nerves though, looking at the success rate with your jumps and everything… But you didn’t give up and, as it took you a while to get to your best, I expected you to be there around the same time as me when I got back on the ice. And that did happen, I had the chance to chase your score at Grand Prix and the Worlds, and I loved it!”

“O-oh”, Yuuri whispered, feeling a bit winded. “I… I’m sorry?”

A flash of confusion crossed over Victor’s features as he studied Yuuri and the reaction he obviously hadn't been expecting.

“For…?”

“You… You didn’t want me to quit. And you said, after your injury… If trying to keep up with me helped, I suppose I am…”

“No! No, no don’t be sorry for that! I was selfish, so focused on what I wanted that I completely forgot that you had a reason to quit, too. No-one does that for no reason, I know that”, Victor exclaimed, jumping up from the bench and then crumbling right back down again when he realised he couldn’t properly face Yuuri like that.

"Oh no…" Victor’s face paled then, going back to what he had said earlier and realising what he had implied. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that I’m as good as you already, I’m –“

“But you are”, Yuuri interrupted. “It’s… It’s what I always wanted, you know…? I am happy, honestly! If I am done, the best thing to hear is that someone looking up to me, well, replaces me –”

Victor shook his head, a little annoyed now as he took is turn to interrupt Yuuri instead: “I am _not_ replacing you –“

“N-no, you are not! I mean, I –“

Language barriers and clashing personalities; it certainly was a recipe for something special.

 

* * *

 

“It’s getting late”, Yuuri pointed out in embarrassment, looking around in the dim evening and seeing that most lights in the hot spring had already been turned off, the guests having either left or moving over to their rooms. Victor joined Yuuri as he stood up, walking up to the door while they shared a comfortable moment of silence.

“Yuuri…” Victor whispered once inside, pointing towards the pantry. “Can we get something to eat?”

Yuuri paused, turning to Victor with a squint. The man looked innocent enough, and they had had their hurried dinner a good while back, in between the final interviews and the talk with Yuuri’s parents.

“Sure…”

As Yuuri picked something for them as light snacks before bed, Victor sat down to wait instead of getting in his way. Victor clasped his hands together as he rambled on about how much he enjoyed Japanese dishes and the way they differed from what he was used to. Although he was disappointed in knowing that Yuuri had to focus more on limiting what he was allowed to keep eating regularly as they went onward with their arrangement.

“There’s a lot to try, though”, Yuuri replied. “I won’t stop you from doing that.”

“And that’s why I love you”, Victor cheered, just as Yuuri placed a piece of bread in front of him with his face immediately flushed. Spluttering, Yuuri sat down opposite to Victor, taking a bite of his own snack before he spoke, carefully:

“You don’t even know me.”

“But I will”, Victor laughed as he too tasted the dish, a pleased look on his face. “And you’re an upgrade from Yakov, for sure.”

Yuuri’s mind stalled as he tried to come up with a worthy comeback to the joke. There really wasn’t one.

“Maybe we should come up with some rules, though”, Victor pondered on, a finger on his chin as he tilted his head.

“Rules?”

“Yes, something to keep us on the same page.”

Yuuri huffed. “That’s what rules are for, yes. But what do you have in mind?”

Victor shifted, breaking the bread in half and stuffing the other end in his mouth rather abruptly. Yuuri looked away, stifling a laugh at the not in the least elegant sight.

“Hmm… No eating after 10 pm, unless given permission? You’re nice enough to allow it so it’s not that big a deal”, Victor began with a smile and Yuuri huffed at the simplicity of the ‘rule’ in play.

“Alright… No drinking either but that should go without saying”, Yuuri said next, which made Victor nod eagerly as he got more into the process.

“Oh! You’re not allowed to wake me up before eight in the morning, unless you’ve told me twelve hours in advance.”

“Before seven; that I can work with. But only if the same goes for you…” Yuuri agreed and gave Victor a pointed look that made the younger skater frown in disappointment.

Yuuri had been quick to learn, within the few days he had already had to kick Victor out of bed in the mornings, that not every day was alike. There were those when Victor wanted to be the one to repay the favour, stumbling to Yuuri’s room with Makkachin in tow and throwing the dog on top of him with too much energy for a man dead asleep every other day at even later hours.

“Deal?” Yuuri had to confirm when Victor didn't say anything, grieving over his lost method of payback and most likely planning on new ones already.

“Sure… But! You need to let me and Makkachin sleep in your room at least once – _no -_  twice a month! No, a week!”

“…What does that even have to do with _anything_ –?“

 

* * *

 

Mari stood in the hall, having gone outside for a smoke as she checked that everything had been closed properly for the night. She listened to the discussion in the kitchen for a moment before shaking her head and walking away, back upstairs to her room.

She had always known her brother to be an idiot.

 

* * *

 

“I… I have one more”, Yuuri spoke out when he and Victor made their way up the stairs. “Rule, I mean.”

“What is it?” Victor grinned, stopping by his door. Yuuri took one more step forward, towards his own, before turning to Victor with an unreadable expression.

“You don’t know me, you really don’t. If I fail at being your coach, you need to tell me. Not just to make me better at it, but… If I’m not what you need me to be, you need to let me know and leave. That’s the deal, isn’t it? We try this out and the moment it doesn’t work, you need to go and… find another way to… get what you want.”

Victor paused, confused yet with an appreciative smile. Yuuri was serious about this. “Of course.”

“I mean it, Victor”, Yuuri repeated, and took a step back toward the other. “You can’t stick with me if I am a complete failure. And if we don’t get along –“

“I’ll treat you like I would any other coach; if I feel like you’re not helping me improve, you’ll be fired. Don’t worry”, Victor stated, raising his right hand towards Yuuri. “I might have been impulsive when coming here, but I’d still like to think I made that choice for a reason... It goes both ways, though.”

Yuuri looked down at Victor’s offered hand, slightly lifting his own to meet it halfway but not taking a hold of it yet. “What do you mean?”

“I… I know this isn’t easy for you and I really am sorry for... coming here. And being so rude about it", Victor said and looked past him apologetically. He had thought about that then, Yuuri was glad to hear. "If you don’t want to be my coach, for any reason, you can always quit.”

Yuuri swallowed, glancing at the guarded smile on Victor’s face before letting out a sigh.

They shook hands, with Yuuri walking away in the silence that followed. He felt the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as Victor’s door closed behind him, a quiet good-night making its way to Yuuri’s ears.

Yuuri couldn’t comprehend how happy he was, not when he knew the mess he was in.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of part three, “Proposal”. The next one I call “On Ice”, of course, and it will also have a lot more content than the first three parts put together… Slow burn for the win!  
> \--  
> This is probably my favourite chapter in the whole story, which says something about me I guess? Nothing happens but there’s plenty of, mostly skipped, dialogue to last for days!


	12. Two dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both could get what they wanted.

At nineteen, Victor wanted to believe he was on the ice to stay.

At twenty-three, Yuuri had moved on to coach someone who wanted to have the gold.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri sat by his laptop and hummed along the music playing on his headphones. Just like every day at this time, he was watching through the recording of Victor’s practice from a few hours earlier.

Victor had been as talented as always, incredibly focused on every move he had made on the ice. Once again, Yuuri was both impressed and taken back by why the other would ever even think he needed Yuuri’s help with anything.

Still, Yuuri had learned to not be blinded by this admiration of skill, quickly adapting to his new role as a coach and making it his own. He was able to see past the focus and notice the small things, to point out the mistakes that only he and Victor understood.

Yuuri couldn’t believe he had fallen for _that line_ , in the end.

 

* * *

 

Victor appeared in the doorway, poking his head inside to watch Yuuri study his skating. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, even if Yakov was proving hard to make peace with.

Yakov never answered his calls or messages, but always called him back later to tell – or, rather, _scream at_  – Victor how he was wasting his youth and his prime years with someone who could never coach anyone at this level without any training of his own.

Although he had already seen that Yakov was wrong in saying that, it was even more import that Victor didn’t _feel_ like he was wasting anything no matter how he looked at it.

Victor sneaked his way inside the room, with Yuuri too focused on the screen in front of him to realise that his privacy had once again been preached by his overly clingy student. Victor sat on the ground by Yuuri side and peeked over his coach – new coach, _lovely coach_ – to watch his own performance play on the screen while listening to Yuuri silently hum under his breath.

No part of Victor could bring himself to regret his choice, he thought with a smile.

He really wanted Yuuri to know as much.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri felt like he was having a heart attack; that is the first thing he registered when his breath caught and his heart jumped to his throat.

The second thing he quickly recognised was the cause of his discomfort; the hands wrapped around his frame and crushing his arms against his body.

Once he was clear on this, Yuuri’s head fell backwards in a sudden rush of relief, thumbing right against Victor’s. The younger skater laughed uncontrollably as he pressed his face against Yuuri’s shoulder, his patience having failed and making him unable to not disrupt Yuuri's work.

It hadn't taken long for Yuuri to get used to that either, he had been less surprised to realise than he could have ever imagined.

“I-I almost died, what are you doing here?” Yuuri pulled away and turned his head to glance down at the top of Victor’s head, his face completely hidden from view as he still continued to chuckle. Yuuri didn’t feel like putting in the effort to pry himself free of the hold, feeling Victor’s smirk against his shoulder.

“Wanted to surprise you…” Victor mumbled as he let go of him and offered a smirk that made Yuuri sigh.

“Well… You succeeded?”

“Did I?” Victor asked with his eyes sparkling, which was a completely unnecessary reaction in Yuuri's mind.

Yuuri couldn’t believe he was falling for this idiot’s “charm”.

 

* * *

 

“What have you written down already?” Victor asked and turned to the notes Yuuri had made while watching his short program.

“Oh… Right!” Yuuri rustled the paper in his hands, straightening it out after having crushed it in his earlier shock. “Sorry… Do you understand any of it?”

Yuuri lifted the paper toward Victor who squinted at the Japanese scribbles. After a brief moment of furrowing his brow he looked at Yuuri in defeat and shook his head.

“Okay.” Yuuri reached for his laptop and rewound the video back to the start. “Let’s go through it.”

Victor inched closer to Yuuri's side, not saying anything at the critique and praise throughout the review and only nodding as he took everything in. He agreed with every point Yuuri made, noticing what he meant as the coach pointed at some freeze-frames of the relatively low-quality video he had taken.

Yuuri understood what needed to be fixed, he really did. Victor couldn’t be happier.

There was rarely any yelling but by the rink Victor had also seen exactly how tough Yuuri could be when he saw something he didn’t like. He had eye for perfection and day by day he was becoming more firm in letting Victor know what he needed to do to let that show.

Victor wanted to perfect this routine and show Yuuri exactly who he could be as he did.

Yakov and the world would be proven wrong, with Victor and Yuuri showing them exactly what they could be and do together.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri wanted Victor to be himself, nothing more than that.

Having lost years to pretending, Yuuri was terrified of being the new guiding force in Victor’s life and career. But Yuuri saw Victor’s love and determination in everything he did and was willing to help him onward with it.

Yuuri would defend him from _them,_ and _their_ further influence. And, through Victor, he was finally able to see his own dream becoming a reality.

Yuuri had inspired someone through his career and struggles, and none of it had been left as just the empty platitudes he had since then had in his mind. Now, through Victor and their common goals, Yuuri could keep the motion going in a way more true to his dreams.

Skating was about beauty, love and life, and they both could get what they wanted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lovely “retrospective” to start this off, a bit differently than before… Some time-skips similar to the show’s happen between the end of the last part and at the start of/during this one. Just to keep in mind that yes, time passes and Yuuri & Victor get closer between each scene!


	13. Unity of one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri hoped he was right, with this stupid idea of his.

On the way to the rink, Victor carefully approached the subject of whether or not Yuuri ever wanted to return to skating. The idea wasn’t nearly as difficult to discuss as it had used to be, Yuuri was glad to notice.

Maybe it shouldn't have been, but at times it really was hard to accept how much someone else's presence had affected him in such a short time. It's not like he could remember himself having ever been lonely before.

“I know at twenty three it’s not…" Yuuri tried, searching for the right words. "Even if I felt like returning, it would be difficult. Everyone knows that and they would judge my every move, saying it’s already too late… And that’s exactly why no-one believed it was just a break I was taking, as didn’t you.”

Victor nodded, apologetic at the memory being brought up again. There was a lot he had already aplogised for, when it came to his sudden appearance in Hasetsu.

“If you don’t want to return, you don’t have to – but if you do, you shouldn’t listen what everyone else has to say! And, well… Meanwhile I’m just happy to have you all for myself.”

Yuuri coughed in an attempt to hide whatever it was he was feeling at those last few words, every time Victor felt like repeating them. Which was often.

“...this works fine for me, too. As long as I don’t… mess everything up, for the both of us.”

“You won’t.”

Victor was smiling again but the look in his eyes was as serious as it was honest. He really did have faith in Yuuri. “Are we going to dance today?”

Yuuri hummed, glancing at Victor at the change of subject. “Do you want to? I scheduled us for tomorrow but I’m sure there would be a spot at Minako’s studio if I asked.”

The only reason to abruptly change their schedule, that Yuuri would allow, were the dancing lessons Yuuri and Minako held for Victor. Being ensured that the Russian enjoyed this part of their routine together was everything Yuuri had wanted, knowingly so or not.

Seeing Victor dance, was it ballet or something else they tried out for inspiration, really was something compared to seeing his graceful skating. It was a mystery how someone so talented on the ice could be the very opposite when it came to having his feet on solid ground.

 

* * *

 

“What ideas do you have for your free skate?” Yuuri asked, leaning against the wall as Victor finished his workout for the day.

Victor glanced up at him from underneath his fringe, shrugging before reaching for his toes again to stretch. Once he straightened himself and stood up, he walked up to Yuuri and the two of them left the room together.

“Everything I worked on with Yakov during my break and by the end of last season I don’t want to use now, even if he was to somehow allow it… Not that he answers any of my calls, so. Well. Other than that, all I have is what you’ve already seen”, Victor replied, cheerful although it was obvious that the mention of his previous coach was a sore subject.

“For the free skate… I still need a theme to work with", Victor added before Yuuri could bring it up himself.

“Alright”, Yuuri hummed, having thought of this for quite a while as well. As Victor’s coach, he needed to make sure they were prepared for the season long before it started - which they were already a little late on. It was obvious he couldn’t help but to stress over it. 

Yuuri was thankful that the short program had been easier to deal with and allowed them to start practicing from the very beginning of their arrangement, not wasting a minute. Yuuri was continuously impressed at Victor for the way he had made his old choreography his own, having now asked both Yuuri and Celestino’s permission to use the revision of it for the next season - with Yuuri's fixes, of course.

Even with the season beginning to change, it all worked thanks to Victor not being one to worry too much and using that to keep Yuuri calm. Victor had full faith in the program they were building on and he was talented enough to take the delays in stride.

“Do you have anything in mind for me?” Victor asked, aware of the answer but curious to finally hear more.

“I…” Yuuri frowned, deep in thought and knowing it was about time to reveal what he had been working on. He stopped by the changing room to let Victor in. “There is something, yes… It's also been a part of the warm up routines I have had you do, so…”

"I knew it!" Victor cheered and nodded eagerly, hurrying inside. “I’ll be right back!”

Yuuri huffed, a worried smile on his face. Victor had asked about the warm ups earlier, obviously having seen that there was more to the way the moves and jumps Yuuri had told him to do had connected with each other.

The basis had to be strong if Yuuri wanted Victor to fully take to the routine with the time they had left, and Yuuri had had only one program in mind he could have tested the waters with thanks to the tight schedule. From what he had seen so far, he did have a visual on how the finished work could look and there was nothing to be gained from further delays.

Knowing that, Yuuri bit his lip. He hoped he was right, with this stupid idea of his.

 

* * *

 

Victor exited the changing room, running down the hall and to the entrance of Ice Castle where Yuuri was currently talking with Yuuko. Yuuko turned to smile at Victor as he arrived, immediately asking how his practice went.

Victor couldn’t help but to say that it had been the best, as he always had even back in Russia. But now, Victor found himself meaning something a little different with those words.

If you had asked him a year ago, there was no way Victor could have imagined himself enjoying skating even more now than he had then.

Yuuko smiled knowingly, turning back to Yuuri to finish their conversation with a few words in Japanese that Victor couldn’t understand, no matter how hard he tried to learn the language. Being fluent in three languages hadn’t helped much with immersing into Japanese, but Victor was determined that he would catch on soon now that he lived here.

If anything, he wanted to surprise Yuuri with it.

Trying to keep up with the few words he recognised, Victor watched in interest as Yuuri squinted at his friend with an embarrassed look and then waved at Yuuko to move along, before turning to him. “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” Victor cheered, immediately launching forward and to the door to get on with the issue at hand. He had waited for long enough. “Where are we going? Back home?”

“Um… For a walk first? I need to show you something, and –”

“You’ll tell me about your idea?” Victor was practically fidgeting in excitement at whatever he would be shown.

Yuuri let out a sigh and nodded, looking utterly defeat despite his smile. From behind him, Yuuko's laugh rang out and Victor noticed her daughters also peeking over the counter with their phones ready. Victor reminded himself to check his feed later and get himself some of the photos he was certain would make their way over, just to take another look at Yuuri's current expression.

“Let’s get going!”

Yuuri had glanced back at his friend as well, noticing the children and knowing it was time to hurry off.

 

* * *

 

"Where are we going?" Victor asked as they walked down the road and towards the Hasetsu Castle's general direction. Victor recalled how much fun they had had visiting the Castle soon after his arrival, once the reporters had given up bothering them every second of the day. He wondered if Yuuri wanted to re-live the experience.

"Just... away", Yuuri mumbled as an answer, not slowing down their steady pace. "Maybe the beach?"

"Isn't that in the other direction?" Victor said out loud, having already worked hard to get his bearings of the town and feeling a little lost at being told his sense of direction might still be utterly wrong.

Yuuri simply nodded, not noticing Victor's confusion. "Yes, but we can take the long route. I need a moment to think."

He sounded almost worried about something, Victor realised. With that in mind, he dropped the rest of the questions he had wanted to ask and allowed Yuuri to have his moment of silence to think through whatever was on his mind.

While waiting for them to get wherever they were going, Victor decided that he enjoyed the walk. Looking up at the impossibly clear skies of Hasetsu, the silence of the moment made him feel more content than he could remember himself having been for years.

"Let's... take a seat here, I guess", Yuuri said as they reached the Castle grounds, nowhere near the beach. Victor followed his suggestion and plopped down on the wooden bench from where they could see across the whole town and to the sea.

They had been here before back when they had originally visited the Castle, and sometimes during Victor's morning runs as well. If Victor was to list his favourite locations in Hasetsu, he knew this spot would be in the top five.

"You'll share your idea about the free skate now?" Victor asked, unable to hold back on the question for much longer. Yuuri ended up chuckling, appreciative of being given as much time to clear his head as he had and finally prepared to share.

"Sure. It's less of an idea and more of an... already existing concept", Yuuri replied, pulling out his phone as he sat down next to Victor. "I have something you should listen first."

Yuuri pulled out his headphones, plugging them in and letting Victor have them. Holding onto the phone, Yuuri turned to watch the view of Hasetsu, covered by branches softly rustling in the breeze.

After Yuuri pressed play, Victor was met with a silent melody that washed over him. There was something curious about the music, something almost off with the tune that didn't quite reach a level Victor was familiar with. It lacked spirit, Victor realised, leaving him unable to imagine anyone being able to skate to it without their moves appearing forced.

But all in all, the melody was one he liked. Sweet and melancholy. Missing something and certainly not finished, but he could tell that there was a meaning to it that could easily be polished.

As the song ended, Victor lowered the headphones thoughtfully. He turned to Yuuri who didn't look at him still, not even for his reaction. He seemed to wait for Victor to fully form his own opinion first and expected him to put it into words.

"It's unfinished", Victor decided to say after a moment, thinking back to the notes the flow of which seemed to have been cut short.

"Not really", Yuuri answered, finally glancing at Victor but turning to look back up at the town almost immediately. "It was finished when it was made, just not with enough material to be fulfilling to the listener. I think."

Victor hummed in agreement, rolling the headphones in his hands as he pondered through what he had just heard. "Someone composed this to you?"

"A student in Detroit. I asked her to. It's based on my skating career and… Well, even back then it was easy to tell something was missing, as you noticed."

"And you wanted me to listen to it because…?"

Victor was aware of the literal answer to his question but not quite sure how to take it. Yuuri smiled.

"As I said: I think this song, while composed for me and about me, was missing something – but what I was missing, I feel like I might have finally found. So, it can be. Finished, I mean. Did you like it?"

Victor flushed slightly, not able to look away as he quickly nodded. "It's a nice melody. Could be really good, and I can see it would suit you."

"I can… easily choreograph something for it. I already have the structure from before, which I never ended up using, obviously - and those were the moves you have already been practicing with so I know it would work, somewhat", Yuuri continued, appreciating Victor's words and deciding to go on with confidence. "The question is, do you think it would suit _you?_ "

Victor frowned, not sure how to reply. "I think you know that better than I do? But if it's a song about you..."

"It's a song… about a version of me that I never wanted to be. Like it really was made for someone else. But, true, it's a part of me and I am… Well, I am a part of your career now?" Yuuri admitted with halting English as he tried to find a way to convey what he felt. “I suppose what I am saying is, it makes sense to me to let you have it.”

Sometimes Yuuri had heard – when watching Victor's skating during their practices - the melody of this song play in his head, thinking of how Victor's career was closer to what Yuuri had once thought he wanted to make his own to be like. Still, even if the music and the younger skater worked together, in his mind, letting Victor have something so personal of his to make into his own was still a terrifying thought.

Victor had already taken his debut, with Yuuri's blessing but still. Letting him have the retelling of Yuuri's entire career would be –

"Your music, your routine, your choreography…" Victor whispered, his eyes widening as he realised just how big of a deal it was for Yuuri to be saying this to him. "Would it really be okay?"

They were on the same page, apparently. Yuuri smiled in relief.

"If it's okay to you, it's okay with me. These can still be my accomplishments as your coach, and... This… This is closer to what I always dreamed of, creating something to share with someone else and the world, and it's not like the song will suddenly be about just you. This is a part of my career, right? The song can just be finished to match that", Yuuri said with a level of certainty in his voice that made Victor's eyes widen even further.

"I... I would love that."

Victor laughed then, surprise and shock in his features after the words had slipped out. Yuuri joined in with a similar feeling.

"I will need figure out if I can contact the composer, find out if she would be okay with reworking the music. You can add in even more of you, too", Yuuri continued in a sudden surge of excitement as he imagined the choreography he had once scrapped being brought back to life by someone who wanted everything it had to offer.

What followed was the two of them listening to the music, as it now was, again and again, Victor adding in his thoughts on what to change and Yuuri explaining his vision of what the music would look like when recreated on the ice. Victor was already going through the warm ups from before and connecting the moves to the parts of the melody, exactly as Yuuri had imagined them.

They would both be the painters of this routine, both Victor and Yuuri understood truly for the first time. They would be sharing the ice in all other senses but the literal.

 

* * *

 

“YUURI!”

A crash - something hitting the door and faltering before beginning to bang at it again. Yuuri didn’t even startle, too used to this happening by now.

“What?” Yuuri crumbled, turning on the bed and reaching for his phone. It read 6:30, making Yuuri curse under his breath. They had made a very clear deal regarding the time, meaning that Victor would be paying for this.

“The assignments!”

“…what?”

“The assignments!” Victor repeated, again banging his fists at the door. “They were released early!”

“Really? A little too early…” Yuuri mumbled, putting his glasses on before dropping back in bed. “Why?”

“Doesn’t matter – _come on,_ Yuuri! The assignments!”

“Right, yes.” Yuuri finally gave in and laughed, standing up. He took his time changing his clothes, taking his revenge in this simple way as he listened to Victor's growing complaints from the other side of the door.

When Yuuri finally opened the door, Victor was bouncing from one foot to the other. The moment he saw Yuuri, his expression shifted and his grin grew impossibly wide again. Tired as he was, Yuuri couldn't help but to break into a laugh.

“You are really into this, huh.”

“Of course I am! These are going to be our first competitions together! The debut!”

“Right”, Yuuri said, taking in a steadying breath. This really was a huge deal, there was no getting around that.

Victor huffed, biting back on further showing his enthusiasm as he passed by Yuuri and entered the room. Yuuri, having planned to head out instead, shrugged and turned the light on before following Victor’s lead back inside.

“They aren't going anywhere”, Yuuri pointed out as he sat down on the bed next to Victor just as the phone was shoved into his face. “Need I remind you that I _just_ woke up? Or rather, I am not even awake yet…”

Even with the worry building up at the back of his mind - their names on the screen making everything a reality - Yuuri managed to ignore that side to it for now. Instead, he stalled just to see Victor's forced calm breaking further.

“You’re supposed to be my coach, be more excited!”

“…Didn’t you check them yet?” Yuuri realised as Victor stared at him, barely able to hold back from leaping forward to take the phone back.

“No! You need to tell me!” Victor grinned and settled down to sit on his hands, apparently unable to control himself otherwise.

“Huh.” Yuuri smiled, finally opening the link Victor had prepared for him. “That’s… touching, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah – just read it already or we’re never doing this again!”

“This?” Yuuri let the page load all the way, not scrolling down as soon as he could have. He looked at Victor. “What about this are we supposed to be ever doing again?”

Victor laughed, a little desperate yet unable to ignore the humour in his coaches voice. “Any of this, I don’t know! Just read it already!”

 


	14. Questions into answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you think you could have meant by it?”

“Yuuri, look, look at _that!_ ”

All he could do was laugh at Victor’s excitement, and not to be mean. There really was something relaxing to being around someone so open to just enjoying his life, not holding back when it came to even the tiniest of details and relaying just how happy it all made him feel.

Phichit had had the same effect on him, but the differences with Yuuri and Victor's quirks were something that couldn’t have been better timed with what had been happening in Yuuri’s life not that long ago. And there was no point to denying it.

“Do you want to try it?” Yuuri asked as Victor ran from one booth to another, enjoying what the festival had to offer to his fullest.

“Yes! Wait, is it good?” Victor glanced at him but his eyes darted back at the meat arrangements almost instantly. Still, the fact that he was able to hold back even that much showed that he had learned his lesson regarding just blindly tasting everything he saw.

“I think so, yes.”

Similarly, Yuuri had learned that sometimes there actually were worthwhile reasons to not be honest about every little thing.

 

* * *

 

Their routine was built on practice upon practice, but with reasonable amounts of breaks and sightseeing always fitted in between. Even for a small town such as Hasetsu, the local events, people and change of season offered them plenty of opportunities to spend time together and relax so that nothing ever got too much.

With that in mind, when there was only a month or so to go before the start of their journey to the Grand Prix, Yuuri found himself thinking about a few details he perhaps should have paid a little more attention to sometime earlier. Curiously enough, these things had nothing to do with his increasing worry over the fact that soon he would have to show his face to the world and tell everyone just what was on his mind in regards to both his and Victor's careers.

With hotel rooms reserved and flights scheduled for their first appearance together at the Cup of China, it was about time to bring these details up:

“Alright, I need to clear this out.”

Victor snapped his head around at hearing the sudden, serious start to a conversation. With Yuuri standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, Victor immediately stood up straight as well.

“Um, what?”

Yuuri sighed.

“Were you really my fan?”

There was a moment with Victor just blinking his eyes, before the reflexive answer came out: “Am a fan, yes.” His shoulders dropped from his earlier surprise and he frowned. “What is there to clear? You… don’t believe me?”

Yuuri shrugged and let his hands drop uselessly at his sides. “I happened to… Well. Phichit, my rink mate from Detroit, asked me about some of your tweets…”

“Oh? Right, you don’t follow me! You should!” Victor broke into a grin and turned to fully face Yuuri. “I promise it will be worth your time!”

“No… I-I mean.” Yuuri stalled for a second and then shook his head clear again. “I am just… curious. You have been writing about our practices and explained the video as we discussed you should, but… If there used to be no mention of you being, well, ‘my fan’… Now you can’t stop saying it!”

Very briefly, Victor could see a shadow cross Yuuri’s features. It made his frown reappear and become that much deeper as he tilted his head.

“Does that bother you?”

“Ah.” Yuuri’s eyes widened and he shook his head again. “If _that_ was too much for me, we really shouldn’t be doing this. I really am just curious, what changed?”

“That’s…” Victor studied the expression on Yuuri’s face a little more before smiling. “Those two things are related, actually.”

“What two things…?”

Victor chuckled at Yuuri's confused look and then offered him an apologetic shrug of his shoulder. “I am a fan, meaning I… I knew you avoided attention. You were good at what you did, and skating was the only thing you wanted to discuss in the interviews you actually participated in! So… While I admired you a lot, I didn’t feel like I should tell anyone about it.”

Yuuri mouth fell open at the realisation that hit him, hard.

“You… You didn’t want anyone to ask me about it.”

Victor hummed under his breath and then nodded.

“Pretty much.” Victor looked embarrassed as he then glanced at the side, finally picking up his skates as the two of them began to make their way toward the rink.

“When I saw you at the banquet, with no one else around… I just had to talk to you! And seeing how I'm here now”, Victor added with a chuckle, “I guess I failed, big time.”

“Oh…” Yuuri’s steps halted a little as he tried to comprehend every implication behind Victor's words. Still, he managed to keep up with the skater as they walked their way across the hallway and through the doors to the rink. “Then… I… And that’s why you are talking about it now? Because it will have to come up anyway?”

Victor was blushing and he absentmindedly scratched at his cheek. “Something like that… All the news out of the way at once. And it would have been a lot weirder if I had come to you for no apparent reason, right?”

Yuuri felt a smile twitching at the corners of his lips and nodded, confused yet incredibly touched as well. Slowly, he was beginning to understand just how much more thought Victor had put into  _him,_ long before they had even met for the first time

“I said it would do us no good if I was unable to handle it, so, I am not complaining or anything”, Yuuri was quick to say before Victor could begin to doubt the reasoning behind his actions any more than he already had to be, noting his increasingly worried look. “Thank you.”

Victor paused and glanced at him, only to see the smile on Yuuri’s face and breaking into one of his own. Sure enough, relief seemed to immediately wash over him.

“You too”, Victor said and Yuuri let out a quiet laugh.

 

* * *

 

In the span of their relatively short careers, Victor and Yuuri had seemingly managed to meet the correct sponsors and contacts who were curious to see how their collaboration was going to work out. It was a good thing considering how much there was that needed to be done if they wanted to be taken seriously from the very moment Victor took a step towards the competitive ice.

Yuuri sat on the edge of Victor’s makeshift bed as the skater sat on the floor, having splayed out the set on three skating outfits they had commissioned. One of them was made by Yuuri’s previous designer, a gorgeous silver suit that was made almost as if to appear as the polar opposite of what Yuuri had worn for his debut, and the other two were from a friend of Yakov’s.

Yakov, of course, would have been pissed off to hear about the latter but his "friend" had apparently answered Victor’s request with glee over the mere idea of being able to show off over Yakov’s skaters. Yuuri knew Victor wasn’t as gleeful over that specific idea, and that was another thing Yuuri would have to address at some point. But now wasn’t the time for that.

The designer had prepared Victor two outfits, one light blue and another darker purple but with both having a silvery pattern covering the length of their skintight sides. The two outfits were very different in feeling but that was more Yuuri’s fault than it had been Victor’s, he thought with a hum.

 _"Two for the price of one!"_  Victor had exclaimed in both shock and admiration when he had first seen the designs that had been made based on the feelings he had tried to portray to the designer, with Yuuri’s help. They had both been bad enough with their explanations, but the designer had done a good job anyway and asked for no additional compensation for giving Victor the final choice between the two models.

“I need to try them both…” Victor mumbled to himself as he compared the two designs that differed very little from one another. “I love them so much, it’ll be hard!”

Yuuri tilted his head and instead focused on studying the way the outfit based on his own debut costume looked as it currently was, not too eloquently displayed on the ground. Victor’s approach to the routine in question was harsher than Yuuri’s had been, and the fact that he had chosen the suit's colour to be the very opposite of that of Yuuri’s black outfit was an interesting one as well:

Victor was all sharp turns and high jumps with the connecting factor of silver and snow, with nothing innocent to the way he wanted to show off his pride. Yuuri had always been more focused on his step sequences and overall performance, which is what allowed him to help Victor with aspects beyond pure technique.

And that's what brought them to the second set of Yuuri's questions.

“First China, then Russia”, Yuuri said as he tore his eyes off of the silver mesh. “What actually is your goal for the Grand Prix? Or the entire season, I suppose.”

Victor blinked, visibly taken back by the question as he stopped poking at the purple outfit. “Ummm…”

Yuuri lifted a brow at him and almost, _almost_ , broke into a disbelieving laugh. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t thought about that.

“Winning would be the end goal, obviously”, Yuuri chose to say as Victor continued to stare at him blankly. “But that’s a little…”

“Do you think we won’t be able to do it?”

Victor didn’t sound offended and Yuri was glad there was at least some realism left in him. Even if Victor had come close to winning the previous year, there was no denying their lower changes now - it was _Yakov_ who had meticulously gotten Victor to reach that point, and the circumstances were very different with the two left in charge of themselves.

“We might, you never know what happens when the season starts”, Yuuri still replied, although there was an obvious displeasure to his voice as he thought about it. It would be an insult for him to reach an achievement like that, on the first year of coaching. “But if we had another goal to go for, it would be more…”

“…fun?”

Victor was biting his lip, a sudden burst of happiness seeming to almost tip him over as he clasped his hands together on his lap. Yuuri hid his own smile with his palm, holding back a snort.

“Exactly. Of course we will go for the best results we can, there’s no limit there, but… It’s not that easy to perfect things the way you want, and our teamwork is still sloppy at best.”

Victor looked like he wanted to deny the latter point, but Yuuri didn’t give him the opportunity as he continued:

“Having a realistic expectation wouldn’t hurt? And it doesn’t have to be anything… too serious.”

It was a surprise, in a way, when Yuuri found himself meaning his words. As long as the world could see that they weren’t taking any of this lightly, they could take their ti–

“This year, finales; next year, victory!” Victor cheered, always with that uncontrollable pride, and Yuuri sputtered immediately.

It was an odd sense of reality slamming into his face, crushing him down in a rush that made him want to tear up and laugh hysterically at the same time. And not exactly out of fear.

Yet another thing Yuuri hadn’t noticed sneaking up on him:

If the first season was them testing the waters, as Yuuri had already unknowingly accepted it to be somewhere in the very depths of his consciousness, then here would have to be another chance for them to really make their mark.

 _To be perfect_ , as Victor would put it, _they would need years_.

Instead of saying any of that out loud, though, what Yuuri did was nod his head as a serious expression crossed his features. But it wasn't without a glint in his eyes.

“Finales, then.”

Victor snickered, appearing to almost curl in on himself as the word charged up his excitement. This time, Yuuri couldn’t help the snort that followed as Victor’s attention turned straight back at the two outfits he was still in the middle of comparing.

Victor ran a hand through his hair and almost thoughtfully whipped his head left and right, making Yuuri certain he would be giving himself whip-splash any day now.

“Oh, Yuuri, can you braid my hair? That needs to be figured out as well!”

Not for the first time, Yuuri ended up replying with an overly dramatic sigh and a yes.

 

* * *

 

The third question was a little less serious and Yuuri was glad he had let it be until the other few had been, somewhat, cleared out.

“It’s almost time to debut your free skate”, Yuuri mumbled and thought back to the many tweets worth of exclamations Victor had already made about that one. “We really should get a theme if you want to prepare something to say about what you are going for, huh? It makes things easier, having one.”

Victor looked at him through the mirror on the wall opposite of them. “Right…”

Yuuri hummed, brushing Victor’s hair with a comb and running his fingers through the strands without really thinking about it. “Have you thought of anything?”

There was no answer, Victor leaning against Yuuri with his eyes closed and his body fully relaxed in his hold. Yuuri, still deep in thought, smiled with a similar look on his face as he added:

“If you do, you don’t need to tell me. I’d love to be surprised.”

Victor returned his smile, appreciating Yuuri’s honest sense of humour and his never-ending kindness as Victor took his time to think through the possibilities. He knew he had settled with a theme already, but there was still doubt there.

Victor hummed along with Yuuri’s silent melody, the Japanese man having a habit of singing under his breath without realising it whenever he relaxed in his skin.

“I have skated to longing before…” Victor quietly said, suddenly feeling the need to talk and going with it. Yuuri slowed the movements of the comb as he listened.

“I was a kid and not so sure what I meant by it, I just know that it was interpreted as something I didn’t want.”

Yuuri turned to look at him encouragingly as Victor opened an eye to peek up at him.

“What do you think you could have meant by it?” Yuuri asked.

Victor looked at him, really looked with so much wonder in his gaze that Yuuri could almost imagine him seeing something otherworldly – which Yuuri _was not_ , making him drop the thought as he waited to listen to Victor’s quiet, relieved words.

No one had asked him about it before.

“I longed for… for myself, I suppose. Once I got back on the ice, I wanted to see myself in my skating, to tell my own story instead of someone else’s. I wanted to be seen as myself… Wanted someone to see me”, Victor explained, searching for words to describe something that was more like an overly abstract feeling instead.

There was a beat of silence, the comfortable kind.

“I… I see you.”

No matter how sappy the words ended up being, they were exactly what Victor had wanted to hear without even realising it. The skater broke into an impossibly wide smile that Yuuri had trouble looking away from as his mouth snapped shut at the lack of anything else to say.

“I know!” Victor chuckled.

It’s good that they were both just as bad when it came to these things.

 


	15. Challenge set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We will show him, right?”

They would have interviews to go through, some separately and some together.

For the weeks leading up to their journey to China, Yuuri had taken his time to prepare for every question he could imagine himself being asked and, with varying levels of success, coordinating his answers with Victor’s. It was funny how much it felt like preparing for an interrogation, as if they had done something wrong by teaming up.

But with a lot of papers speculating and saying that’s exactly what they had done, Yuuri guessed he had the right to be a little paranoid. There were many people who expected the coming season to prove Victor was throwing his talent to waste, and Yuuri had to be prepared for their every move being monitored.

“What is your goal?”

“The finals.”

“Why have Katsuki Yuuri as your coach, out of everyone more experienced and renowned who would have gladly had you in their team?”

“Because you have been my idol since I was fourteen years old. It was your debut skate on international ice that made me certain of my own goal to get there as well, and it is my honest believe that you are the route to the kind of success I am after.”

Yuuri bit his lip, slowly nodding his head before asking:

“And if the season turns out to be a let-down?”

“Either there will be another or there won’t; first, we would have to see what the reasons for said _‘let-down’_ are and work on them, like you always should before giving up. I have no delusion that I could have perfected my teamwork with you already, in the little time we have had so far.”

“There has been a lot of talk about your decision to continue your training in Japan, after results achieved from years in Russia. With the second competition being the Rostelecom Cup, how do you feel about returning to home?”

Victor's smile remained steady, as did his voice used with practiced ease:

“I have spent these months fully focused on practicing and at no point have I felt worried about the way my decision might be seen by the public. I made this choice for myself but without forgetting about Russia, and I am as excited for getting to skate in front of my home audience, and for them, as I have always been! They just need to wait and see what new I will be bringing to the table.”

“And…” Yuuri paused at his final question to look up at Victor’s expectant expression. “You have had plenty to say in regards to your choice of a new coach, but equally little about your old one. Yakov Feltsman, are you… ready to see him again?”

Victor’s gaze remained on Yuuri as he nodded.

“I am. He’s a great coach and I owe him for everything that I am! He’s also the reason I was able to ever consider leaving to Hasetsu – not because I think Yuuri, _you_ , are a better coach than him, but because he taught me that there is more than one kind of talent. Also, it was _him_ who told me what it means to be willing to take your time with something you love, and that’s all I am doing now.”

Yuuri blinked and his head tilted to the left a little as he tried to decipher all meaning in that answer, not just sticking to the way it touched him personally. Interviewers could easily take what they wanted from unclear words, but similarly they were able to forgive the lack of a point especially if the speaker hadn’t perfected their English.

Victor would fall into the former category, and that's why Yuuri had to keep him focused.

“You mean; you are taking a detour in your professional career to see how far you can go without Feltsman’s help?” Yuuri asked, just as aware as Victor that that wasn’t it at all. The skater grinned at him and shook his head.

“That’s a way to put it, sure, but I don’t think of my current situation as a detour! I am serious when I say that Katsuki Yuuri is the only one capable of teaching me just what it means to be one with the ice.”

 

* * *

 

Time had passed so quickly that Yuuri found himself incapable of putting into words just what he was feeling when Mari drove him and Victor to the airport.

From the enclosed safety of Hasetsu, the two of them were being thrown into a world of international spotlight more focused on their situation than that of their current competitors’. They were the question mark, the wild card of the season, and Victor looked giddy over the idea.

Yuuri was once more left to feed off the other's excitement, to have it shut down his nerves.

 _“Wish I could come with you but that’s got to wait a bit, huh…”_ Mari said as they parked. Victor immediately scrambled out of the backdoor to get to his bags, ready to run forward. Yuuri had no intention to stall, but even stepping out of the car was a little disorienting: they had so much with them and, compared to the usual arrangements, not much help to get their luggage to where they were going.

When Yuuri had asked Victor about that, the Russian had simply stated that he was fine with the two of them taking care of everything there was; and to worry about the surprises when they got to them. Yuuri, having ensured a hundred times over he knew just what his mandatory duties as the coach included, hoped Victor could keep on track without anything getting unnecessarily complicated.

 _“Right… But we will be coming back after the competition”_ , Yuuri pointed out in Japanese, noticing how Victor glanced their way and squinted in his attempt to understand what was being said. He had told them to speak in their native language as much as possible even with him around, just for the sake of the challenge, and Yuuri appreciated the gesture. _“And I know you will be watching so it's more than fine.”_

_“Of course, we all will be – Victor’s got his fans here, sure, but you’re the one we’ll always be cheering for.”_

Mari smirked at Yuuri’s embarrassed, flushed expression, watching her little brother shake his head in an attempt to look dismissive as he finally went to get his own bags and run off.

Victor lifted a brow at Mari, the curious look making her snort.

 

* * *

 

The flight wasn’t long but it was silent, what with Victor nodding off and Yuuri full focused on reading through all and every article, video and message dealing with the coming competition and the skaters involved. Victor was counted as one of the favourites, still, and that was the one thing worth noting there; most of these forecasts took into account both Victor and Yuuri’s achievements and stated how there was no way Victor would waste his pride for nothing.

Although that was true enough, there is more to skill and success than pure faith. Not that Yuuri was expecting them to be complete failures, either, but _…_

High expectations didn't make him feel that much better than the lower end of the scale did.

With Yuuri having a lot on his mind, the ride from the airport to the hotel was also over in no time; especially since Victor was still completely out of it. Honestly, Yuuri was surprised they had made it this far without attracting too much attention. There had been some whispers and photo sessions Victor had participated in at the airport, sure, _and it's not like Yuuri had been any different:_

He was the reigning champion and no one was going to forget that any time soon. Yuuri knew he would be asked a lot of questions in regards of his career change and future plans, as well as what he thought of the other skaters battling for his title. If only he had known this would happen, Yuuri thought with a huff as they walked thought the hotel’s entrance, he could have worked a little harder to get comfortable with the attention.

But now it was too late.

First China, then Russia and, if everything went well –

And thinking of that, Yuuri was brought back to what Mari had said. He turned to glance at Victor who was following close behind him, trudging up the stairs with a slumped posture that Yuuri was itching to fix but didn’t – for now.

“Victor?”

The skater blinked and his tired eyes focused on Yuuri with an overly bright smile. “Hm, yes?”

"Will your mother come see you skate in Moscow?" Yuuri asked as they made their way towards the hotel’s check in, prepared to rest well before the next day’s practice. Surprisingly, the hotel was quiet that evening, rarely any guest walking around and none of the other skaters and their teams to be seen just yet.

"No, she'll be busy", Victor hummed out his answer. "But she'll watch it with her co-workers!"

"Oh, alright. Has she ever been to…?" Yuuri was only curious, what with how highly Victor spoke of his mother, but quickly taken back by Victor almost alerted expression.

"Yes, of course! She always tries to have the nationals off to be able to be there with me and it's the same with any local events, whenever possible", Victor immediately answered, looking at Yuuri almost defensively. "She's just busy this time around."

"Right”, Yuuri replied, surprised by Victor’s response but making sure to ensure him that he hadn’t meant anything bad by his question. “Mine were rarely able to come see my skating, seeing how they have an inn to keep open and it’s a lot of work. And they... They don't travel much, nor do they actually, well, _understand_ ice skating all that well."

Yuuri chuckled, and he didn’t sound angry about what he had said. "But Mari tried to be there, whenever possible. Or tries. She and Minako really did want to join us here, too."

Victor just nodded.

They didn't have time to speak further as they got their keys, only stopping by the stairs when Yuuri told Victor to take them instead of the elevator up to their floor. Victor's expression shifted immediately and he looked at his coach as if betrayed, the frown quickly breaking and reforming into a grin when Yuuri shooed him off, only to follow after with the same pace.

 

* * *

 

**9:45 PM**

Tomorrow?

 

**9:46 PM**

_YES!!!_

_..fine w/u?_

 

**9:57 PM**

Sure! : )

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure you want me to…?” Victor asked, and Yuuri almost snorted at the bashful act. It was a little too late for it, seeing how the long evening of eagerness to get to this day, and the meeting, had already gone by. 

“Of course? I wouldn’t have asked otherwise… And Phichit really wants to meet you.”

Victor broke into a grin and Yuuri was glad to see it. The sudden pouts of nervousness hitting Victor every now and then weren’t an issue, but Yuuri knew himself not to be the best at dealing with other people’s emotions – not any more than his own.

“I’ve followed him since he debuted, too”, Victor pointed out as the two of them prepared to leave the practice hall and the curious gazes of everyone watching. They had taken the earliest day and hour to be there and get started, long before the other skaters to allow themselves to refamiliarise with having an audience in peace. “We’ve been sharing jokes online, since I got to know you… But we’ve never talked before and he’s your friend and, well, you haven’t seen each other since you… _quit_ , so. I don’t want to bother you.”

Yuuri raised a brow, glancing up at Victor’s earnest grin. The skater managed to be self-aware at times, but saying something like that after having flown all the way to Hasetsu just to yell at Yuuri, a stranger, really took down some of the effect.

“And Phichit’s wanted to meet you since _your_ debut”, Yuuri said as they exited the main hall. “Just remember to think before speaking and you’ll be fine.”

Victor’s nose crunched, a little confused by the remark and doubting his ability to listen to that specific advice, anyway. Yuuri smiled and then went on to explain:

“He’ll be trying to get everything and anything out of you. He means well, though, so you can always ask and he’ll give you the space you need.” Yuuri was speaking from personal experience, and Victor nodded with a once more widening smile.

“He’s a good friend, then!”

Yuuri thought back to the way he had dealt with not telling Phichit his plans to retire, disappearing from their shared room with little to no explanation. Phichit would have wanted to help and wouldn’t have judged Yuuri for a second, no matter what he would have said about his reasons; and the Thai skater had been the first to forgive him for it, too.

“The best.”

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri waited for Victor to be done in the changing room and they began to make their way back to the hotel, to wait for Phichit call to meet up.

After a moment Victor started talking about the other skaters in China for the competition, wanting to introduce Yuuri to Christophe Giacometti who he had apparently become fast friends with after the previous years Grand Prix, where they had both competed for the first time; Chris having come in sixth and now wanting to take the competition by storm. Victor had been praising Yuuri to the other man ever since then, making Chris eager to properly meet the reigning champion, too – at least, according to Victor.

While Yuuri was still wondering just how that meeting would go, with what he had heard of Christophe’s own type of eccentrics, he missed the way Victor stopped in his tracks and lacked behind him by the exit.

“Ah…”

Noticing Victor’s excited words go silent and turn into a mutter, Yuuri paused to questioningly look back at him. And he immediately saw the problem, one that they had both been expecting to face in China but not today.

Yakov Feltsman stood by the other door, a thick brow raised at Victor who ended up dumbly waving at the man. Yuuri bit his lip as he noticed Georgi Popovich peek through the doorway and immediately turn to hide away at noticing his old rink mate face their coach.

 _“Yakov! I’ve wanted to see you! Hi!”_ Victor appeared to have some difficulty breaking his oddly awkward spell; Yuuri could hear how his voice squeaked when he switched into Russian and took a step forward. _“Uhm, how, how have you been?”_

That was the call for Yuuri to walk up to the two of them, begging for professionalism to kick in to avoid whatever might otherwise happen here. Victor didn’t seem to notice him approach, breaking into a wide smile and waiting for Yakov to say something despite the coach’s rather blank expression.

And it was Yakov who made the next move, stepping forward and past Victor, to reach a hand for Yuuri to shake instead.

“Katsuki Yuuri… I have wanted to congratulate you for your performance last year”, Yakov said, his accent heavy but, a little surprisingly maybe, not condescending. Most people in their sport had sharper words to use, related to Yuuri’s latest decisions in life.

“Oh.” Yuuri managed to smile when he took a hold of the offered hand as firmly as he could, in acknowledgement of the compliment. “Thank you. I have heard a lot about your eye for talent and I know that means something, coming from you.”

Yakov gave him a sharp nod of his head and glanced at Victor, the skater standing next to them with an unreadable expression.

“I have heard the same of you”, Yakov said, his eyes giving Victor a pointed look before turning to Yuuri with a serious gaze. The look was not quite a glare but close enough to make Yuuri’s mind run blank.

“And now”, Yakov said and let go of Yuuri’s hand, "you better prove it.”

Yuuri could have blacked out then and there if it wasn’t for the change in Victor’s expression. The skater jumped forward to stand by Yuuri’s side, his eyes wide and his chin raised.

“We will! You will see”, Victor said and Yakov let out an exasperated sigh, almost as if he had already forgotten how to deal with his old student. But there was something fond there, even with the challenge heavy in both of their eyes.

Yuuri looked between the two of them and blinked, taking the moment in and feeling like an outsider.

Without another word, Yakov turned to leave. He ignored the rest of Victor’s now-freed questions being thrown after him and followed after Georgi with almost hurried steps. Victor snorted at the sight and waved again, but his arm now moved in a wide arc.

Something felt like it had snapped in place, their surroundings made real with so very few words.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“We will show him, right?” Victor asked and turned to Yuuri with a determined look on his face.

“Of course we will.”

A little confidence would’t hurt, even if Yuuri couldn’t stop his heart from beating almost painfully against his ribs. The entire world would soon witness his debut as a coach; starting on international ice, like he had any right to be here.

 


	16. Definition to live by

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never before had Yuuri been as sure of himself as he had by the ice.

“Celestino…”

“I’m just happy to see the both of you, I had to drop by!” the coach happily stated. He pat Yuuri on the back, which made Victor’s smile widen from where he was standing, posing with Phichit as they took some well-deserved selfies to get both of their fans to lose their minds.

“Me too”, Yuuri replied and didn’t go for the useless struggle as Phichit pulled him in for another hug, mushing them all together for a group photo. “Really.”

Victor was laughing and Yuuri was too, meaning he actually wasn’t lying. Having three of these people, happy to share each other’s company and being very loud about it – with Celestino having always fit in nicely with his skaters, outside of his tough-coach persona at the rink – there was no time to feel down.

Just for a moment it was nice to be with friends, and let it be that and nothing more.

“How are you enjoying China?” Celestino asked when the group finally settled down to eat. Victor was the one to answer him:

“We’ve been busy with practicing, but I’m just really excited to finally be this far! Although the break went by real fast, too.”

“Right, right!” Phichit spoke up with a smirk. “Did you see the rink already?”

“Yeah, we came here from there and it was looking ready”, Victor replied with a smile. “Better than last year.”

“Oh right, you were here for the last Prix too! You came in third, yes?”

Victor was happily nodding along and Yuuri was glad to have the chance to see him talk with someone else for once, especially when that someone could keep up with his levels of enthusiasm without any struggle. It was a fact that the past few month Victor had been sort of locked down in Hasetsu, with only a few of the people, other than Minako and Yuuri himself, able to keep up with his English.

Yuuri had always had a hard time imagining himself actually able to get along with Victor, and the past few months still felt a little like a fever dream if he was being perfectly honest with himself. Victor had never complained about the solitude of Hasetsu, but sometimes Yuuri did wonder what he really thought of the change it had offered in his life.

“And you, are you excited?” Celestino asked while Victor and Phichit had each other’s full attention. Yuuri hummed and glanced at the coach, once more reminded that the two of them were supposedly on the same level now, which hardly made any sense.

Yakov had already challenged him, and hopefully Celestino wouldn’t add to the pressure. Beyond the usual, at least.

“Yeah”, Yuuri replied with a small smile. “I didn’t think I would come back here, and certainly not like this… But... I am not complaining?”

“Good”, Celestino said and offered his glass for them to clink. Yuuri accepted, uncomfortably still but with some more calm regarding their situation settling in, too. Celestino hummed thoughtfully and lifted a brow at Yuuri. “This won’t be easy for you, but I said as much when you first called me and asked for my help… And still you are here.”

“You did”, Yuuri said with a nod. “And I know.”

“You’ve changed”, Celestino pointed out with a small grin spreading on his lips. Yuuri knew that as well, or at least hoped that to be the case – and not and act.

 

* * *

 

The theme he had chosen was “Beginning”, and the interview in which Victor had first mentioned it had gone by with the exact questions he had expected to hear. Yuuri had also seemed to have handled the attention pointed at him with calm.

Later, Yuuri had asked Victor about his choice of words in explaining their situation, and he had expected that, too. Simply said, “Beginning” had felt like the obvious name to put to everything that had been happening so far and, as no part of Victor thought that having Yuuri as his coach could be called anything else, there wasn’t much more to be said.

This was the start of something new: not a detour, Victor had meant it when he had said that as well, and their arrangement wasn’t the final destination either. It was also a fact that Victor’s professional career had started a while back already, but not even his return on the ice and senior debut had felt quite as special compared to this and the curious expectations they were now facing head on, together.

And this beginning wasn’t just his, as it was Yuuri who had to learn everything anew instead. He hadn’t planned the turn Victor’s appearance in Hasetsu had made for his year, but he was putting his everything into making it work.

They both were.

The other skaters competing in China were Phichit Chulanot, Christophe Giacometti, Georgi Popovich, Guang Hong Ji and Leo de la Iglesia. The short program was about to start, and Victor was ready to set everything into motion.

 

* * *

 

Everything was a blur.

After the dinner, the minutes and hours – _and days?_ – began to swiftly turn into nothing but the realisation of their routines having led to their first, true challenge. And while both Victor and Yuuri had their own experiences as professional skaters to back up their preparation for the event ahead, the stress now was a little different from what they might call the “usual”.

Yuuri struggled to remember everything he needed to do to fulfil his role without any real training on how to do so, and there was also the challenge of keeping to the schedule he had so meticulously made for the two of them. Meanwhile, Victor had never found himself as quiet as he did on these moments, with his English beginning to completely fail him as he sought to call his mother more often than before simply to have someone to talk to in Russian instead.

But since the concept of time had long since turned into said blur, it didn’t take long at all for them to be heading for the rink after the previous competitor, Guang Hong Ji, had already made it his own. Victor found himself a little unsure then, thinking back and not quite certain what and when he had last said to Yuuri besides the last-minute notes they had made on the plans they had for the day.

Yuuri stood straight next to him and his expression was determined in a way Victor hadn’t registered either, now turning to look at him with his eyes widening in surprise at having missed something to important. Victor took in the new look as Yuuri’s eyes turned to him, blinking with the question obvious in his eyes but not said out loud.

Victor offered him a smile and shrugged, stepping up to the gate and beginning to take of his guards, which he then handed to Yuuri in the continued silence. It was an odd moment to also realise how the silence wasn’t an uncomfortable kind, although it was something Victor wasn’t exactly used to.

Things were different with the two of them, compared to the “usual” previously mentioned. And it wasn’t a bad thing, not at all.

Yuuri clicked the guards together and then followed the sound with a click of his tongue, looking at Victor with his eyes steady for his final words:

“Everyone’s already seen the version of this routine I debuted with, as well as the version you skated the first night in Hasetsu. You need to proof that neither of those two were anything compared to what you’ll be showing them for the rest of the season.”

Victor nodded and stepped on the ice, the flashes of the cameras and the announcer’s speech disappearing from his senses as he took in a steadying breath.

“Yuuri…”

Victor bit his lip and turned, his hand gracefully flipping his hair behind his ear as he skated backwards for a length. His eyes remained on his coach, and only him.

“Yeah?” Yuuri asked, hands kept deep in his pockets and his shoulders held high, the strict looking stance heightened by the suit Victor had managed to get him to buy. Victor smirked at the sight now, seeing how Yuuri didn’t look nearly as unfitting of the role and location as he must have thought he did.

Victor would have to tell him that later, but what he said in this moment was:

“This is all for you.”

Victor stopped on the ice and pointed at the honest smile on his face just to make sure his coach actually took it in, in turn making Yuuri’s eyes widen the moment he registered both the words and the expression. Victor nodded his head as if to assure Yuuri of how serious he was, even with the grin. “No one else here matters; I’ll show _you_ I can do this!”

“Y-you…?” Yuuri mumbled, but Victor was already back on his way and to the centre of the rink.

Yuuri’s eyes wouldn’t leave him, like a coach’s shouldn’t. It was nice to know, Victor thought as he waited for the music to start playing.

After all, this time Victor didn’t have the liberty to keep glancing Yuuri’s way throughout his performance.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t going to be flawless.

There was that part to Victor’s mind that reminded him, with a tiny chuckle included, of how Yakov would kick his ass for the show he was about to watch from the side-lines. But Yakov wasn’t his coach, so it didn’t matter.

Yuuri would get him, even if it meant it would have to take just a little longer for the world to see the point Victor was about to make. For now it had to be enough for them to see Victor smile wider than he had in ages, turning sharply on his skates as the music hit its first note after the silence of its start.

The beat was rising and Victor picked up his speed, keeping to the elements Yuuri had balanced out for him during their months together. This routine was Yuuri’s, the first routine to ever truly be his in more ways than one.

Victor had to prove that to his coach, as well, now as a part of it himself.

Although he had to focus on his skating more than he would have liked, considering he actually was really curious to see the expression on Yuuri’s face, Victor took a few measures to ensure he would stay on his feet. If there was any, the step sequences had always been a weakness of his and, as Yuuri’s strength, they were one of the technical elements Victor was putting all of his effort in.

Of course he wasn’t going to purposefully fail at his jumps either, but dropping a triple jump into a double on purpose was just one of the score lowering decision he made to keep everything in its flow for this first proof of concept. The next event would be the time to show off a little more Victor ensured himself; this moment was about so much more than just his pride.

This routine, and the music it complemented, had been the piece Victor had always skated to keep his love for the ice both before and after his injury. This was the routine Victor had dreamed to see polished by Katsuki Yuuri for one more time.

And now Victor had learned what that dream actually meant, or could mean, for the both of them.

Victor knew there was time to perfect the way he held it all together later, and that was the point. He wasn’t in a hurry, not like he had been a year prior, and he wanted to relish every moment. He wanted to aim even higher than he had ever even began to imagine himself reaching, only to see the look on Yuuri’s face.

Victor loved it, every second:

Not the world’s eyes on him, but Yuuri’s instead.

 

* * *

 

The routine came to an end.

Victor stopped with a spin and contracted his body practically in half, holding his breath when the music hit its final note. He couldn’t hear the cheers and the claps and whatever words and noises there were ringing all around him, his eyes snapping up and dismissing the flowers on the ice to turn to the side of the rink instead.

Victor held his body upright as he finally allowed himself to gasp for breath, stumbling towards the gate by the kiss and cry that Yuuri had already long since ran to open for him. Victor’s eyes were locked on to his coach to try to read everything his expression had to say about the past two minutes.

It wasn’t too difficult to do so.

Yuuri didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, from reaching out and encasing Victor in his arms the moments he stepped off the ice. The smile on his face was painful at this point, but no part of Victor could have even considered letting it drop.

Yuuri’s expression matched his perfectly, and Victor knew for a fact that this was the first time he had ever seen him with a smile as honest.

 

* * *

 

What felt like another few days later, Victor and Yuuri finally found silence by hiding in their hotel room. They were both fatigued and maybe even shell-shocked, but Victor couldn’t stop chuckling and giggling as he collapsed onto his bed with hands over his eyes.

He knew he must have sounded borderline hysteric but he couldn’t be bothered to hide his glee, at least for as long as Yuuri knew that’s what it was. The coach had seemed to be in need for some more reassuring after the initial joy and results and the questions and photos and Yakov’s glare at the back of their heads –

Victor was currently in fifth place, with 83.75 points: ten points behind his personal best, and fourteen behind Georgi who was currently in first.

“I’m really happy”, Victor managed to speak through his laughs, splitting his fingers to peek at Yuuri who was still standing in the middle of the room as if lost on what to do with himself. “Really, really happy. I don’t even fully get _why_ , but I am!”

Yuuri was very clearly biting his lip as he nodded rather stoically, not even appearing to register Victor’s words beyond the reflexive movement he had made in response. Victor’s mood didn’t drop at seeing that as he only had to work harder get Yuuri to see things from his point of view again, like he had with his skating:

“Yuuri! That was a success!”

Yuuri’s eyes turned to him, belatedly seeming to take in Victor raising to be supported by his elbows. He grinned at his coach.

“Was it…?”

“Of course it was”, Victor snorted. “The score is good, my performance actually beat my technical score for the first time ever, and I had so much fun! I’ve wanted to be seen skating that routine for real, or, actually I wanted you to be the one to do the skating, but you told me I did great and that’s all I wanted! For once, I –“, Victor’s voice actually shook at the words and took both him and Yuuri by surprise as he hurried to continued:

“I felt proud of myself. Because I would have never been able to skate the way I did tonight, or the routine, or with you there for me, with me, if we hadn’t met. I know I did a selfish thing to get us here, but... If I hadn’t…”

Victor was facing a sudden lack of words, but there was that one specific, small, smile on his face – the one, which began to look more relieved each time Yuuri saw it. The coach tried to listen to the words and catch on to what he might have meant, and then he finally seemed to realise what he was feeling himself most likely wasn’t all too different from what Victor was attempting to get across in the first place.

They were at the Grand Prix, and it was nowhere near done: They had only just gotten started. And what came to the start they had had, the “Beginning”?

It really couldn’t be called a failure.

Never before had Yuuri been as sure of himself as he had by the ice, a tie around his neck and his eyes adapting the same spark Victor had had on his when he skated.

 

* * *

 

Things didn't exactly calm down after the short program, but the acceptance they had of their situation became a little more literal at least.

“Skate America… Leo won that, Otabek Altin in second and Guang Hong Ji in third…”

“What about Canada?”

Yuuri hummed, staring at his phone to make sure he got it all right before listing the participants in order of their placement: “Jean-Jacques Leroy, Yuri Plisetsky, Emil Nekola…”

“Oh, right!” Victor let out a thoughtful hum. “And if I know anything about our competition, it’s that Yuri will make it to the finals, too”, he stated with a smirk, which earned him a questioning look from Yuuri.

“He’s also one of Yakov’s skaters, right?”

“Yup, and won the Juniors last year. He doesn’t really like me”, Victor said and kicked his feet back and forth under the table with enough force to make the table shake. “Not sure why, though.”

Yuuri bit back a knowing smile and looked down at his breakfast. “I met him once”, he mumbled and dropped his phone back on the table as Victor continued to eat his own dish. The skater’s brows rose in surprise.

“You did? When?”

“Last year, after the Finals’ banquet… Before I met _you_ ”, Yuuri explained, still deep in thought as he tried to recall one of the many nights he had originally worked so hard to forget every detail of. “He… scared me?”

Victor frowned, a little lost on what Yuri might have said to the still-reigning champion but not exactly surprised about that part of the story, either. “More than I did?” he still went to ask, although jokingly so.

Yuuri’s nose crunched up. Victor really was oddly self-aware of his shortcoming, whenever it suited him.

“Yes. Because, unlike you or the other people who congratulated me for my victory, Yuri was just… quiet.”

Victor’s expression grew blank and he blinked, turning to face Yuuri with his breakfast forgotten. “Uh… We, we’re talking about the same person, right? Yuri Plisetsky, fifteen, blonde and short? Like and angry kitten but with blades instead of claws?”

Yuuri nodded intently, huffing under his breath. “I know who he is, I’m not that out of the loop – _especially not now_. But he was less angry and more intense, back then? No different from you in that he did, umm… challenge me, for his senior debut? But I haven’t seen him since so, I don’t know what he might have thought of my –“

“– retirement”, Victor automatically finished with the wording Yuuri still couldn't bring himself to use, but it's not like the coach was mad for him doing so since it was nothing less than the truth. And, there were other things to focus on right now, like the way Victor poked at the carrot on his plate with his expression as puzzled as it could get.

Yuuri didn’t really know what the problem was, but it’s not like he had ever shared a space with Yuri Plisetsky for long enough to know something was off with the description he had just given. Not giving much of an explanation though, Victor turned to look back at Yuuri with a tilt of a smile on his lips and said:

“Guess we’ll find out what’s on his mind? I mean, Yuri’s also going to be skating in Russia!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yurio actually is a part of this all, but Yuuri never thought it important to mention. The actual first meeting between them (that took place during chapter 5, huh) will be posted later to “chase”?


	17. Graceful flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just want to prove that being with you really is the best thing that could have ever happened to me."

_“It’s about me, as much as it is about you…”_

“What?”

Victor paused at hearing the question. Blinking, he turned to Yuuri who he now noticed leaning on to the side of the rink. “Oh! You were quick, hi!” Victor said, switching back to English and skating to the side to properly face him. “What did they say?”

“Date and time’s been confirmed”, Yuuri said and opened his calendar with a frown. “We officially have tickets for our flights to China and back…”

“YES!” Victor cheered and, after quickly whirling on the ice, leaned in to peek at the calendar. “It’s so close…” Yuuri managed a smile at Victor’s excitement, and then asked:

“And what were you talking about earlier? You looked… Well. Deep in thought.”

Victor laughed, a little surprised by how direct Yuuri was to ask the question and especially with _that_ look on his face – rarely coming off as openly curious. It was a nice change to notice, meaning it wasn’t always Victor being nosy. “I was just thinking”, Victor said, running a hand through the free strands of his hair, thoughtfully again, “about the name for the free skate piece.”

“Right.”

The music had been finished two days earlier, with both Victor and Yuuri having fallen in love with the final version. The composer had given them the right to name the story it told of them. They knew what that story was, of course, and with the preview copies they had already taken weeks upon weeks to practice the free skate itself – but, a name was still something that would tie it all together.

“Have you come up with something?” Yuuri asked, walking around to the speakers to turn on the music for them to listen while Victor continued skating in circles. Not getting an immediate answer, Yuuri then put on his own pair of skates to join him on the ice.

“I think I have”, Victor finally replied when Yuuri began his own warm-up rounds. “But I think I… umm…”

Yuuri actually had to squint at him at that, earning a small, almost shy chuckle from Victor.

“And?”

“Could we test a theory of mine?” Victor asked, coming to a stop and bringing his hands to his front almost as if praying for Yuuri to agree without question. But of course his coach wouldn’t do such thing, and Victor did adore that about him, too.

“…a theory?” Yuuri lifted a brow and stopped by Victor’s side to look up at him. Victor did find himself squirming before he tried to reform his question with a small smile:

“Could you skate with me?”

 

* * *

 

It didn’t feel long at all, to go from their brief first meetings to the first practices, choreographing the short program and naming the free skate, then all the way to China.

The final day before the free skate there, consisting of practices and warm-ups, went by in that same blur that had first began from the short program. It wasn’t something Victor was about to complain about since the professionalism and clear scheduling was a comfort: he had no room or intention to feel nervous about it - that would have to come later, of course, but China wasn't the place or time, not when it was all meant for Yuuri and him.

Victor had taken to the blur of the moment to focus on their goal and the sparkling smiles he wore to ensure everyone could see he was happy with the situation he had created both on and off the ice. Not unlike him, Yuuri seemed focused on making the scene his own, not getting stuck to the familiarity of what he had experienced in halls like these less than a year ago.

Finally stepping on the ice, Victor felt steady on his feet. Although he had his pride to upkeep, being here was about so much more than that. He had sworn to it.

The skating wasn't perfect, as expected, but it worked as the first showing of the free skate that meant so much to him in ways Victor could never, ever put into words but at least skating he knew how to do – with his head held high and his smile the perfect visual of a winner as it always had been.

Victor won in what he had set out to do.

A part of him knew he was about to lose in something else, but he ignored it.

He knew no one had noticed, and that no one needed to know. It was necessary to keep it that way.

No one needed to know how he corrected his slide by balancing most pressure to his right leg as he skated towards the side of the rink after the routine had ended and the cheers began to settle, with an overly wide smile and his arms held open in a cheerful wave:

Victor had felt his shin begin to ache after the second to last landing that he had first stumbled on, his brain oh-so-helpfully reminding him of how he hadn’t even done any of the more demanding moves during the Cup.

He looked up at Yuuri who gave him his blade covers with an equally bright smile that Victor returned, more honestly now, when they moved over to the kiss and cry to wait for their judgement.

Victor kept his eyes on Yuuri and that was enough:

With all the same, mindless determination that had always had a hand in making him blind to his own weaknesses, Victor was quick to forget all about the brief pain and covered it with the way he leaned against Yuuri, taking in the coach’s critique as they waited for the score. He didn’t need anything to slow them down now, and it was so much easier to just let it all go with that in mind.

 

* * *

 

“166.47 points from the free skate; fourth place.”

Victor sad on the edge of his bed and waited to see expression that would follow those words. The entire day Yuuri had seemed to play the part of the perfect coach, giving him the critique and pointing out not only his shortcomings but his strengths as well. In front of the other skaters, calls home and, maybe most importantly, the interviewers, he had been very clear with his words, showing off the score and ensuring everyone could see him to think both he and Victor belonged on this world-class stage.

Being no stranger to playing his part throughout the week, Victor found himself waiting to hear whatever thoughts Yuuri hadn’t shared with their audience and their friends, with Victor having taken the time to congratulate not only Phichit and Chris, but Georgi as well - whose free skate Victor had still managed to, rather smugly, beat by over ten points.

“I loved it… Every second”, Yuuri hummed, and there was that one specific, small, smile there that Victor was beginning to understand was built entirely out of relief. “And I know the audience loved it too.”

On top of everything else, their teamwork really had been proven to the general public and that’s something that couldn't be taken lightly. The one rule Victor would never forget is that your image is what makes you a professional; it is what you need to stay on the top, not just your skill.

“Good”, Victor chuckled, biting back a cry of pure joy when he kicked his legs and watched Yuuri begin to arrange their belongings. “As long as they could see what I was going for, I’m happy.” It wasn’t exactly all that he had meant to say, given his turn for honesty and immediately flubbing it with his own lack of practice. But, knowing he had very clearly made this entire skate about Yuuri helped him believe the coach already knew as much.

Yuuri stilled in his packing, glancing back at Victor to ask: “And what will you be ‘ _going for_ ’ when you get to skate in Russia?”

That’s the other rule; as a professional, you are meant to be there to present your country more than yourself, and some countries, such as Russia, are stricter on what that meant. Yuuri had every right to be worried over the public’s reactions there, but Victor did have faith in his ability to know how to play his part in pleasing everyone.

Victor cracked his neck and threw himself to lie down on the bed, simply imagining what kind of look Yuuri might have been giving him. The serious kind, most likely, but which variation of that was the interesting part of the question.

“The simple things? I just want to prove that being with you really is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. And I hope to show that they have nothing to worry about – with you, I can still become more than a mere legend!”

 

* * *

* * *

 

The return to Hasetsu was an experience on its own, with Victor and Yuuri attempting to focus entirely on what was going to happen next while building on the expectations China had already made into reality. But the most important part of this wasn’t the changes it created, and instead how welcoming the town now felt.

And it wasn’t like it hadn't been that before, or about the silence and familiarity compared to the hectic time they had spent in China; it was entirely about the way people reacted to their success, even if most of them didn't seem to quite understand it either.

It was a different type of stardom, less intrusive and more like a family Victor hadn’t expected to so wholeheartedly take him in.

For as long as he had been on the ice, he had made himself a space that the other skaters hadn’t quite fit in. A part of Victor had maybe, sort of ,expected Yuuri to be like him in that, seeing how quiet the older skater had always been about his personal life and around other skaters and media alike.

Victor wasn’t disappointed to find he had been wrong, and he loved the warm way he had been accepted by Yuuri's family and neighbours even with the language barrier, which he was working to cut out of the way.

The many types of care he faced here, especially with the long distance to his mother now tugging at his heart, were a blessing in many ways. Victor’s so-called second coach was a good example of that, too.

At first, Minako had been angry at Yuuri for the sudden way he had ended his skating career. Next, she had been shocked about the following, almost instant, career change that she had had no choice but to support since, one, she didn’t want to see him crash and burn and, two, Victor had to have a good reason for wanting to give Yuuri the chance.

Victor and Yuuri were talented, they were professionals and they knew each other to be exactly the same. Minako took to her own professionalism, _and actual talent and experience in coaching_ , to mean she had to play a role in having their backs.

“You better make it.”

Victor tried to bite back a laugh at the seriousness of the statement, not one to purposefully piss off Minako when knowing just how much he owed her already. “That’s the plan –“

“Oh, I know it is, but I want to be there for the finale and so does Mari – meaning, _you better make it_ ”, Minako repeated while Victor stretched by the mirror, glancing at her through it. His smile faltered, but only to make way for a more serious look of his own – looking a little ridiculous on his face but no less impactful, Minako noted in approval.

“I know”, Victor said with a nod. “Mari already made that more than clear the moment we landed”. His gaze was firm and so was the honest smile tilting his lips. “We are not planning to disappoint you.”

Minako nodded and crossed her arms, knowing Victor meant his words as much as Yuuri had when she had asked the same of him months ago, when he had first come to her asking for help and the studio. There was a reason they wanted to do this together and she was just as curious as the rest of the world to see it all through, supporting them on their way.

“Well then… Let’s get started!”

 

* * *

 

“Minako said that?”

“She and your sister, yes”, Victor laughed. “They’ve pretty much reserved their tickets for Barcelona, so…”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, turning his hand in a smooth curve that Victor matched perfectly on the other side as they glided across the ice. “Oh…”

He had sort of guessed that was the case, with the way Mari had told him he was doing a good job first thing at the airport, everyone at home commenting on what they had seen on the broadcast with similar words. But Mari had taken the time to pull him to the side and say she was happy for him, especially for the way _he_ seemed so much happier now – and here, at Hasetsu, not all the way across the globe, which she seemed to appreciate.

Through it all, although still embarrassed by all the attention paid to him, Yuuri was beginning to identify that the twinge he felt at his heart at all these comments wasn’t entirely because of the additional pressure the celebration made him feel. He was into the challenge of it all and wanted to see it through – and being a coach instead of a skater felt truer to his dreams, he had already come to accept.

But there were more steps that could be taken and, with Yuuri’s family having already taken Victor in, he had already thought of a way to face some of his worries.

“I was… thinking”, Yuuri said as they skated together, the routine being the ice dance they had made a part of the practice sessions ever since Victor had first gotten Yuuri to agree with his ‘theory’, to better familiarise with each other's movement and state of mind.

“Hm?”

Yuuri glanced up at Victor, who looked like pure curiosity sculpted into a human form with the way he glanced back at his coach through their skating. “Since we are heading to Russia next…" Yuuri began, careful to not lose his step. "You said, earlier, that since your mother won’t be able to make it to the Rostlecom –“

“Oh!” Victor interrupted, his eyes widening as the two of them took a sharp turn on the ice and posed for a second, holding hands and looking the other way before pulling back together for the next beat. “You mean, would you like to…?”

“I would like to meet her?” Yuuri said, the words unintentionally coming out as a question, which Victor didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he beamed as he skated backwards, with Yuuri circling to his front with a sharp turn of his blades.

“But then, we would have to go see her, yes? In Saint Petersburg…”

“I think –“, Yuuri pulled Victor up close to him, “– we can spare the time, fly over a few days early. It doesn’t mean we can’t still practice, just that we would work a little harder with the specifics to balance out the extra time taken off ice.”

They were still trying to figure out which one of them would be in charge of the lifts in their choreography, considering Victor being taller and Yuuri stronger of the two, but for now Yuuri took care of anyway simply because it lowered the chances of injuring his skater.

“S-so”, Victor actually stumbled with his words as Yuuri lowered him back on the ice, the skater a little stuck in his head due to the importance of the conversation, but not for a second letting it show on the way he skated – always a perfectionist as he was. “Should I ask her? My mother, you haven’t talked properly yet, but I know she would love to and, just, get to know you since you –“

They spun around again and Yuuri chuckled a little awkwardly, knowing full well he had maybe, sort of, cut short all chances whenever Victor had tried to get him to talk to his mother. Doing it over a camera or even a phone call simply felt wrong for some reason, but this, _in person?_

Yuuri thought that might be the most appropriate as well as easiest way, knowing his own issues. Or, maybe, he was simply overthinking it.

“You should”, Yuuri replied. “But no promises, I still need to make sure our schedule makes sense.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a little over a year since I posted “Chasing after a punchline”, the missing scene that's actually from the next chapter. Whoa, finally :D
> 
> I wrote most of this fic a year ago, when Sketchy first asked for the AU right after he finished yoi (and I, as always, can’t say no or stick to oneshots…) I wrote everything in the form of a plain transcript and some dialogue so filling things in later is prettyyyy interesting, especially with trying to figure out what some of my original notes even mean…


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